I've always been afraid of the dark.
It all started in my childhood, my imagination seemed to run wild every time the lights went out. Perhaps my mind was creating images of things that weren’t there. But I’m sure I actually saw the shadow of a man on the wall—upside down. I could never make sense of it, but it was always there, lurking in the darkness, as if staring back at my soul.
Every night when my Mom turned off the lights, the terror would flood in. I’d lie in bed and that twisted shadow would appear; my young heart would race with fear. Tears would follow as I begged my Mom to turn the lights back on, pleading for a sense of safety in the soft glow of the light bulb.
And so, for years, it’s the same ritual: sleep with the lights on, or risk the terror of that upside down shadow.
My fear of the dark didn't fade with age—it clung to me through my teenage years. I couldn’t imagine myself being able to sleep in the dark without that haunting sense of unease.
But I did. Somehow, I did.
As time passed by, I learned to adjust. Slowly but surely, I learned to close my eyes, even when the room was pitch black. The upside-down shadow, once so vivid in my mind, gradually faded from my nightly visions. The darkness became something I can tolerate, something I could even embrace. But what truly changed for me wasn’t because of time or age—it was because of a dog, a dog named Snow.
Snow isn’t just a dog. She’s my warm blanket, a quiet companion who knows how to make me feel safe. Her warm presence beside me brought a new comfort I hadn’t known before. Her soft fur against my skin became my new form of security, and for the first time in years, I found peace in the dark. I could sleep without the reassuring hum of a nightlight. I could sleep without fear.
If you asked me if I’m no longer afraid of the dark, I’d be honest: I still am. But I’ve learned to face that fear. The darkness no longer holds the same terror, and the shadow that once haunted me has disappeared. I realized I could only conquer my fear by facing it—and I did.
The dark is still there, but now, it feels a little less lonely. With Snow by my side, I’ve learned that sometimes, the thing we fear most is simply waiting for us to grow into it. Maybe all we need is a little light in the form of love and courage to make the darkness less terrifying.
