HOW DID I GET HERE -- Effects of Fear

It is now late into the third week after my filing for the Montana State House as a Democratic candidate.  I have blown hot and cold at the thought of taking on this experience:  running blue in a red state.  Even during my March 3rd phone call with Matt, Democratic Field Director, my fear is palpable.  In answer to his request of including my name on the November ballot, I respond, "You don't think I'll find a burning cross on my lawn some night?"  He reassures me, because of where I live, that probably wouldn't happen.

On Sunday, at the beginning of this third week, I tell of my candidacy and share my fears with the UU Fellowship in Billings.  They are supportive and encouraging.  But I have yet to tell the first person in my town.  Earlier in the week, I write several posts for my new blog.  Since only a few know of the blog, there's little likelihood there would be a local response to anything I've written so far.  Still, I worry about reactions from crazy people -- and lay low.  In fact, in the previous week, a small circle of friends meets at my house.  We each have a goal in mind when it comes to writing and we meet to provide ideas and support in that process.  I do not mention the blog that might give away my secret.

It's only after a conversation that lends itself to my situation that I share with a Roundup citizen -- almost four weeks after I file.  We are discussing an upcoming Trade Fair where local citizens running for local offices will have an opportunity to introduce themselves to Fair participants.  There will be a table available for their literature as well.  "Maybe I should introduce myself, too," I suggest.  I go on to explain.  She doesn't seem upset, only shows surprise because she hasn't yet heard anything about it.  I laugh, "There's probably a good reason for that since you're the first person I've told here."  At the Fair, the table for candidates will focus on their running for local offices; my candidacy is for a statewide office.  I decline the idea of participating.  I'm nervous about putting myself out there so quickly and publicly.

Midweek, our small circle of friends meets again at another member's home.  This time I have the courage to mention my candidacy.  The question that surprises me most is, "What if you win?"  I laugh and tell them the story of my husband's experience in running for office in South Florida in the 1970's.  "If I win," he said at the time, "I'm going to demand a recount!"  This whole experience is beginning to feel like a game now.

The next week, I share my not-so-secret again with a larger community group.  "I want to introduce you to someone," I say to the group after the meeting is adjourned, "who is a Democrat running for State House representing District 40."  I pause.  "And she is me," I finish.

"You?!" is the loudest response.  She follows up with question concerning campaigning.  I surprise myself in answering her, "I don't want to work that hard."  Another mentions, "Oh, I'm neither Republican or Democrat."

My tension is beginning to ease a little.  Maybe paralyzing fear has been unwarranted, I tell myself.  With each step I've taken in sharing my candidacy, my fears have lessened.  Maybe that's the secret, I tell myself.  Honor my commitment first.  Then, just continue what I've already started:  take one step at a time, one day at a time.  And trust the process.