A few weeks back, I zoomed Senior Research Fellow at the Department of Psychiatry at the University of Oxford, Dr Andrea Reinecke, and she told me:
"The key to lowering anxiety is to face what you are afraid of. The spider phobic might want to start by looking at images of spiders; the socially anxious might want to socialise every night until they realise that practice makes things easier."
So last week, I gave blood. I was terrified of needles, but after leaning into a pricking at Labtest I'm not.
The week before that, I delivered 10 minutes of stand-up comedy to a large crowd.
I got some decent laughs, and now I'm less fearful of that too.
This week I am facing a much bigger and more terrifying monster - holidays.
When the government locked Aucklanders in for four months last year, we all desperately wanted out.
Keeping 1.5 million people confined to a city for 100 days was a drastic thing to do.
It's hard to believe it happened.
When they finally opened the borders - I didn't go anywhere. There were offers, but I couldn't commit.
I blame women. Well, the lack of a woman in my life.
For whatever reason, in my circle of friends, it's the females who take charge of booking holidays. Couples are always going on trips - single guys like myself never go anywhere unless it's for work.
This isn't just the ramblings of a jealous fool, this theory is backed up by stats.
In her 2018 marketing and public relations blog, Simona Novakova wrote; ''One of the most noticeable trends, backed by solid data, is the fact that almost 70 per cent of holidays, tours and activities are booked by women''.
''Part of the whole process also includes the thorough research and preparation for the trip, as men, in general, tend to leave these responsibilities entirely to their female partners.''
I was in a relationship from 2001 to 2017, and we went on lots of holidays. Those trips were some of the best times of my life.
I booked none of them. Not a second of any of them.
Not even a taxi ride. Zero research was done in advance by me, and no enthusiasm was shown.
I dreaded those trips for months beforehand, then was immediately grateful beyond measure when we arrived.
And so thankful that my partner was willing to grab my credit card and create those experiences for us.
I am not proud of my behaviour. The unpaid work some people put into their relationships is often referred to as emotional labour.
I didn't do any. Maybe that's why my 16-year relationship doesn't exist anymore.
In 2022 I am determined to face my fear of booking holidays. That's why I have been on my Air New Zealand app for the last hour staring at flights.
I was one click away from booking tickets to Los Angeles to watch my beloved Dodgers play in the National League Division Series at Dodgers Stadium when I suddenly stopped to write this column about it.
For a person with holiday commitment phobia, bashing out 750 words on the topic is much easier than booking the actual trip.
God damn it, I'm going to do it. I'm going to book my holiday right now. I'll be back in a second . . .
. . . I'm back. I have done it. I have booked myself a holiday.
I faced my fear, and now I have a beautiful shining trip to look forward to.
I feel… terrible. What have I done? What if something awesome happens in Auckland while I'm gone?
I haven't even checked what my mates are up to. I might cancel.
