Searching for Brave
I’m sitting here struggling to come up with a topic to write about this week. I feel lost and hypocritical. Who am I to be telling you to be brave when I struggle to do so every single day. High school wasn’t the best experience for me. I visited my hometown for the first time since I went to college this week and it was flashback city. Just driving down certain roads triggered so many memories, mostly bad, from my years here. It wasn’t a good time but it was a necessary time because it shaped who I am today. I guess I don’t give myself enough credit, I mean I might struggle to be brave every day, but I do it. I did it all through high school and there were moments where I didn’t think I would see 18 years old but I am here writing this blog. One of the things I value is transparency and honesty. I think there should be no other way to be. So I want to tell my brave stories but I want to tell my not so brave stories too. Being brave isn’t just admitting yourself to treatment or moving across the country. It’s getting out of bed when you thought that your world was ending. It’s holding your head high and going to school the day after that breakup. It’s raising your hand in class. It is anything and everything and I don’t think we give enough credit for that. If we start counting the small victories, I have a feeling we will all consider ourselves a little braver.
I feel like I’m at a weird place in my life. I’m like half adult half teenager and don’t have a clue what I am doing. I go grocery shopping, pay my rent, go to class every day, and keep my mental health in check. Reflecting on it now, I realize how many little braveries go into puzzle piecing my life together.