The dark and night have always been notoriously frightening; little children constantly insist there are monsters under their beds that will only stay away if there’s a light. They plug in their night light, turn the hallway light on, listen to the reassurance of their parents, and then fall asleep, dreaming of the very same ghosts and shadows they were just guaranteed were not real. At least, that’s how it was for me.

“Light” and “dark” are two ideas that have been twisted together countless times to show who the good guys versus the bad guys are; think Star Wars: Darth Vader on the dark side and Luke Skywalker on the light side. Darkness is always considered to be evil; never is there any good to be found in the dark according to most.

Being afraid of the dark is almost a rite of passage; it’s like you can only grow up if you first go through this phase. It’s a relief to grow out of it for most. Yet, that is not quite what occurred for me. Personally, after facing the fear and no longer being afraid of the dark—rather than being indifferent—I have grown utterly fond of the night. 

Instead of the monsters and ghosts that I saw when I was little, I now see a softness that I haven’t been able to find anywhere else. The starless, spiked, and icy shadows that used to lurk in the corners of my room warmed and softened their edges until I couldn’t help but form an attachment to them. 

The shadows now dance comfortably around my room until the sun rises just after dawn each morning. They’re not mocking and attacking, like children expect, but protecting me throughout the night like companions. 

It’s not that light is now the “evil” to me; light continues to be wonderful, brightening up the world the way it does. However, I have begun to appreciate that in the dark, I never have to squint when it gets too sharp, and rather than needing to look away, I can examine closer to discover the night’s little mysteries. If I gaze at the sun for a prolonged amount of time, I won’t be able to see anything—peering into the dark does nothing of the sort, merely fascinating me. 

Night and I have formed a friendship. It’s not too complex; it is actually exceedingly simple and built on a foundation of trust that it won’t share my secrets so long as I don’t betray it. The calmest period of time during my 24 hours can be found when the sun sets, the moon arises, and my shadows are prancing around me.