I’ve written before about the time my parents thought I was kidnapped. It was around 1985, when I was seven, and it involved a clown. Stephen King’s It wouldn’t come out and transform clowns from friendly, creative characters into menacing murderers for another year.But my friend Sam and I were plenty scared of that particular clown on that particular day. We probably still weren’t as scared as our parents were, since, in their eyes, we were missing. They might have thought we’d been kidnapped, and I for sure thought that’s what the clown intended to do.Kidnapping wouldn’t have surprised me. I worried about it all the time. It didn’t help that in school we were always learning about ways to thwart kidnappers. Seeing pictures of missing kids helped add to my paranoia as well. I drove myself crazy worrying about some madman rolling up in a beat-up van, luring me with some candy, and kidnapping me.Luckily nothing like that ever happened. And as I grew older I became less worried about it. At some point right after college it occurred to me that I hadn’t thought about being kidnapped in a really long time. Thirty-eight-year-old men aren’t kidnapped very often in America.One fewer thing for me to worry about.When we were presented with tonight’s Blogapalooz-Hour challenge: “Write about things you once worried about but don't anymore,” kidnapping was the immediate thing that came to mind. I thought I might write about just that.But as I wrote the first couple paragraphs above, I remembered a few other things that I used to worry about.Like parenting.At some point I realized that I hadn’t grown to be an asshole, or a murderer, or a clown, and I attributed that to being blessed with stellar parents. I always knew that I wanted to have kids, but I worried that I wouldn’t know how to be a parent.Sometimes in the back of my mind I replayed that scene from the end of Back to the Future where Doc Brown arrives from the future and says he needs Marty and his girlfriend to come help him. And Marty says, “Do we become assholes or something?”Doc tells him that they grow to be just fine, but “It's your kids, Marty! Something's gotta be done about your kids!"I worried that was the fate in store for me. I’d turned out to be a rather decent fellow, but what if I was such a shitty parent that my kids became jerks? I had no idea how to be a good parent. I couldn’t point to one particular thing my parents did that made them good parents.But even though the jury’s still out for my kids, I’m confident they’ll continue to be people of whom I can be proud. Part of that is because somehow I’ve learned to be a damn good dad. I used to doubt myself, to wonder if I’d know what I was doing, to wonder if I had what it took, but after getting an up-close look at a couple of truly shitty parents, I can say that I don’t worry about not being a good parent anymore.There are a few other things I don’t worry about anymore, most of which are less serious than being kidnapped or being a no-good parent.Like being buried alive. I used to always worry that when I got old my family would think I was dead and put me in a coffin, and then I’d come back to life, but still be buried. Horrible.But then I found out that blood is drained from bodies after they die. No need to worry about being buried alive anymore!I saw a movie when I was a little boy where a guy answers a phone and some killer on the other end sends a special shock through the phone that killed the dude. I don’t know, maybe there’s some technology that could do that, or maybe radiation from our cell phones is slowly killing us anyway. Whatever the case, I don’t worry about getting shocked on the phone.I used to worry about feeling awkward. Being in uncomfortable situations. Having to talk about difficult things. I don’t worry about that anymore. I’ve learned to embrace awkwardness. Even to seek it out sometimes. When we throw ourselves into difficult situations outside of our comfort zone, the only choice we have is to grow. Thus no need to worry about that either.There are times that I worry that I can’t write. Words aren’t coming together how I want them to. I’m unable to express the point I want to get across. Creativity seems to abandon me.But then a blank page fills up, and I realize I don’t have to worry about that either.Unfortunately, the list of things that I do still worry about is much longer than the things I don’t worry about.I’m still not worried about clowns though.Click here to receive an e-mail each time I write a new post! Guaranteed spam-free, unsubscribe any time IF YOU LIKED THIS POST I BET YOU'LL ALSO LIKE: Fear Can Be Useful When ParentingPREVIOUS POST: Money Can't Buy What We Want the Most