I still experience fear when I am called to speak to many thousands of people， sometimes tens and hundreds of thousands. I go into remote areas of China， South America， Africa， and other parts of the world where I have no idea how people will receive me. I’m afraid I‘ll tell a joke that means something entirely different in their culture and they’ll take offense. I use that fear to remind myself to always run my speeches by my interpreters and hosts before I risk embarrassment.
I‘ve learned to welcome my fear as a source of energy and as a tool to focus my preparations. If I’m afraid of forgetting my speech or messing something up， it helps me concentrate on reviewing and practicing my presentation.
Many fears are useful in that way. For example， it is a good fear that motivates you to snap on the seat belt because you don‘t want to be injured in a car accident. If your fear of catching a cold or a flu inspires you to wash your hands and take vitamins， that’s good too.
Too often， though， we allow our learned fears to run amok. Instead of simply taking precautions to avoid catching a flu or cold， some people take it to an extreme by locking themselves in their homes and refusing to go outdoors. When our fears keep us from doing all we can do or from being all we can be， they are not reasonable.
“WHAT IF？” FEARS
I have a friend whose parents divorced when she was young. Her mum and dad fought all the time， even after they broke up. Now she is a grown woman， but she is afraid to get married. “I don‘t want to end up like my parents，” she says.Can you imagine never having a lasting relationship because you are afraid it might not work out？ That’s a sick fear！ You can‘t think of marriage as nothing but the first step to divorce. Remember the Tennyson poem “ ’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all”？
You can‘t possibly have an enjoyable and fulfilling life if you are paralyzed by fear of what might happen someday， somewhere， maybe， somehow. If we all stayed in our beds every day because we were afraid of being struck by lightning or bitten by a malaria mosquito， it would be a pretty sad world， wouldn’t it？
So many fearful people focus on the What if when they should be saying Why not？
● What if I‘m not good enough？
● What if they laugh at me？
● What if I’m turned down？
● What if I can‘t keep up with my successes？
I understand that sort of thinking. Growing up I had to deal with major fears—the fear of rejection， the fear of inadequacy， the fear of being dependent. It wasn’t just my imagination： my body lacked the standard equipment. But my parents told me that I should always focus not on what was missing but on what I had and what I could create if I only dared to follow my imagination.
“Dream big， Nicky， and never let fear keep you from working toward your dreams，” they said. “You can‘t let fear dictate your future. Choose the life you want and go for it.”
So far， I’ve spoken to diverse audiences in more than nineteen countries around the globe. I‘ve taken my message of hope and faith to vast crowds in stadiums， arenas， schools， churches， and prisons. I never could have done that if my parents had not encouraged me to acknowledge my fears and then push past them.
FEAR AS MOTIVATION
You and I will never be as dominant in a sport as Michael Jordan was， but you can be like Mike in using fear as a motivational tool to keep chasing your dreams and the life you want to create.
Laura Gregory was a very smart school friend. I could always count on her to say exactly what she was thinking. She did not mess around. One day in our first year， Laura asked， “So you have a teacher’s aide to help you at school. But who takes care of you at home？”
“Well， my parents do，” I said， though I wasn‘t certain what she was getting at.
“Are you okay with that？”
“With my parents helping me？ Sure， what else would I do？”
“I mean with things like getting dressed and showering and using the bathroom？” she said. “What about your dignity？ Don’t you think it‘s a little weird that you can’t do that on your own？”
Laura didn‘t mean to hurt my feelings. She was a truth seeker， and she truly wanted to know how I felt about every aspect of my life. But she touched on a sensitive subject. One of my greatest fears growing up was that I was a burden on the people I loved. The thought of being overly dependent on my parents， and on my brother and sister too， was never far from my mind. Sometimes I would wake up at night in a cold sweat， terrorized by the thought of my parents being gone， leaving me dependent on Aaron or Michelle.
That fear was a very real one. Sometimes I was nearly overwhelmed by visions of dependency. Laura’s blunt questions about my dignity helped move me from being tormented by that fear to being motivated by it. Questions about my dependency had always lingered on the edges of my consciousness， but after that day I put them at the forefront of my mind， and I decided to address them aggressively.
If I really put my mind to it， just how independent could I become？ Motivated by my fear of burdening my loved ones， I created that mission statement—even though at the time I had not a clue as to what a mission statement was. My fear gave me a driving passion and the strength to push myself. I need to do more for myself. But how？
My parents always assured me that they were there to help me and that they didn‘t mind carrying me， lifting me， dressing me， or doing whatever I needed them to do. But it bothered me that I couldn’t even get a drink of water by myself， and someone always had to lift me onto the toilet seat. As I grew older， I naturally wanted more independence， and I wanted to look after myself more. My fear gave me the determination to take action on those desires.
One of the thoughts that really stirred me to action was the image of me being a burden on my brother Aaron once my parents were no longer around. I‘d often worried about that because if anybody deserved a normal life， it was my poor little brother. I felt like God owed him that because for most of his life he’d been stuck helping me， living with me， and seeing me get so much attention. Aaron had arms and legs， but in some ways he got the raw end of the deal because he always felt he had to look out for me.