As a kid I lived with a constant hum of fear. I had the usual worries: the dark, spiders, ghosts, dying, and a few odd ones like balloons. What finally helped me break through was not courage at all; it was reading, learning, and becoming curious.

I did not always love reading, but I grew up with Pizza Hut’s Book It program, where finishing books could get you pizza. Once I found the kinds of books I loved, I became insatiable. I read everywhere, far too late into the night when I should have been sleeping, and in the back seat with the lights of the PA Turnpike as the only glow on the pages, because turning on the cab light was against the rules.

I started reading about my fears. What is darkness, and how does it work? Why can I not see as well at night, and why do things look strange out of the corner of my eye? Those questions led me to biology to learn how the eye works, then to the basics of light. If Wikipedia had existed then, I am sure I would have been overwhelmed by the sheer amount of information. With only library books, I could choose sources that spoke at my level and explained light without tumbling into quantum theory.

Spook by Mary Roach

Even now the learning I did about spiders serves me well. I still prefer some personal space around most spiders (jumping spiders [Salticidae] excluded). I have a better sense of which species warrant caution in my area, and there are very few, and which do not. I have become one of those spider relocator weirdos, and I will keep a few indoors near my plants to keep the gnats at bay. Most spiders are wary of humans. I talk to mine, and they scuttle away when I do, which makes me laugh. For once, I am the one being feared.

Ghosts have fascinated me for a long time, partly because I was terrified of them as a child and partly because now I do not believe they exist at all, even though many people strongly do. It took a long time to study my way out of that fear. I kept reading ghost stories and the writers who debunk them. Eventually I went to a few haunted places and simply spent time there, approaching them with curiosity once I felt safe enough.

Reading taught me that fear loosens when I name it and learn one small, true thing about it. If I could go back and talk to the child version of me crouched under the covers listening to the house settle, I would not tell them to be brave. I would put a book in their hand. I would point to the first sentence and say, “Let us learn one small thing together.” You do not have to swallow the whole dark. You only need enough light to see the next step.