What if I die? How will she be without me? Who will explain this to her, and how? This was my fear of death as a mom when I first had her 18 years ago. I wasn’t sick, and I hadn’t experienced any near-death situations — I simply had this overwhelming feeling that I can’t die until she’ll become at least legally independent. Until, by law, I was no longer in charge of her.

This fear grew even stronger when I decided to get divorced, moved to a new country, and became a solo parent, a.k.a. – the only one responsible for her. At times, it felt like my fear grows together with her. Every panic attack I had, my mind would create the illusion that I was going to die (as it does). And I wasn’t afraid of death itself, only of her not having me.

It felt really exhausting. So, I made a promise to myself: I would do everything I can to stay alive until she turns 18. I’d take extra precautions, avoid dangerous situations, and stay healthy. I must last until she turns 18. And then — I’d set myself a new deadline.

Well, guess what — she’s turning 18 in a few days, and I’m still here. I didn’t die!!! And I don’t need a new deadline because, frankly, I’d say I’m no longer deadly afraid of dying. I mean, my life is good, and it will last as long as it should. My child is about to live her own life in a few months, and I’m ready to start a new chapter with my partner — in a new country, with new dreams and plans.

Motherhood is scary. And it’s not just me. The other day, I was on the phone with my friend, who is the mother of two young boys. She opened up about having the same fear — what if something happens to me? How will they be? It sounded a lot like she felt she had no right to die.

I don’t think it’s about death itself. It’s about the responsibility of the life we brought into this world. Other female mammals have it too, though we may not know how much they think about it. But just try crossing a wild pig’s path near her babies, and you’ll see the same protective instinct at play in other species.

Stoics helped me a lot understanding the concept of death. They view life and death as interconnected, as it should be. Since they make it seem so organic, it becomes normal. It finds its way into you, and after speaking about it many times, it becomes less sharp. Many moms are scared to even state it, as there’s still a mystical part to it. As if by just rolling it off your tongue, it will grow legs and find its way to you.

But the truth is — it might be the exact opposite. My fear grew bigger and bigger in my head when I didn’t speak about it. Since I didn’t speak, nobody had a chance to share that they have the exact same feeling. Making it sound normal! But when I finally did speak about it, it started sounding weak, as if it lost the power that silence gave to it.

I started writing about it, listening to philosophers, especially the Stoics and Immanuel Kant. Instead of feeding my fear with avoidance, I introduced it into society. Later on, I even managed to crack some jokes about it. And once I did I realised that my fear of dying was actually a reflection of how much I want to live. My child boosted my purpose. My life gained new meaning. Bingo! I’ve learned enough of fearing death — so I can switch my attention onto enjoying living my life now.

I should be grateful for this fear — it showed me how much I want to be here. The fact that one day I will die doesn’t freak me out anymore. I don’t want it to happen now, but I know it will eventually. I mean, the life I have is more of a miracle than something that was promised to me (considering the world’s events) . So, I won’t waste it fearing death. I will live it with respecting death and being grateful for living.

I don’t want more “What if I die?” Instead, I want, “When I die, I wish…”

I find it important to be open about my fears, to let them out, to see how they look, what their actual size is, give them names, and make the most of them, find out what’s on the opposite. At the end of the day my fears are also me. I think it’s important to speak with your kids about this too (in an age-appropriate way, of course). Teach them life in all its parts, not just the comfy ones. I believe it has a positive impact on them — seeing you be vulnerable and dealing with your fears, rather than hiding them under the rug.

And since I completed my mission of not dying, I have a new goal: to live until I’m 110! Let that be my new deadline — 41 years done, 69 (!) to go. And whatever happens in between, I promise – I will be grateful for it.