I’m not brave I hide from my thoughts My feelings My dreams

I’m not brave I cower at the slightest raise of a voice I cower at the moment I need to be brave I cower at the small voice lurking inside my head

I’m not brave You scare me Though you don’t mean to I’m afraid of when you will hurt me again

I’m not brave I don’t stand up for myself I don’t say what hurts me I don’t stand up for others

I feel like I’m not brave I have so many fears Fears I can’t face

I’m not brave

But maybe that’s what makes me brave

All the fears I have I have to face them many times Sometimes I’m so scared I think I’m going to cry Or throw up

But I don’t I don’t know why

Someday I will be brave

But for now Im not brave Im simply Trying to get by

I know you had this image of me This porcelain doll you modeled perfectly Who grew up to do everything just right Never worried I’d get into drugs or fights

I’ll admit part of me felt a little guilt For shattering that effigy you built You were always proud I was so obedient What would you think if I was deviant?

But pretending hurts more than letting you down I can’t live my life dressed like a circus clown Coming clean was a massive weight off my chest Now I just cross my fingers and hope for the best

I guess I’m relieved, you aren’t too upset But I can see this disappointment as you sweat Grappling to comprehend in what world This could happen to your little girl

I love you, I don’t think it’s right to be mad There are some things you might never understand But I feel better now that I’ve let go Of that perfect child you had come to know

Smiling when you feel so sad Despite hardships, you still raise your head Getting up every single day Trying to keep sorrows at bay When all you want is to be alone And feel you won’t cope on your own Laughing when you just want to cry Sometimes trying hard not to die Facing old fears you thought were past And realising they’re all here to last Trusting when you’ve been betrayed After all the kindness you displayed Keeping a generous and loving heart When the world seems to fall apart Taken by the cruel, greedy and fake You still choose not to let yourself break There is no biggest bravery after all Than resist evilness and stand tall When you can so easily give in You opt for benevolence with a grin.

With a huff, I ask, “You really think that I’m the brave one in your legends? I don’t feel particularly brave.”

I notice the left corner of his lips quirk up in the barest of smiles before he leans in closer, taking a moment to stare deeply into my eyes. I cannot help but be enchanted, staring back raptly into the depths within his eyes. I feel like he can see into every corner of my mind and for a moment, I feel anxious that he’ll see something bad. As I fight the urge to look away, his eyes continue to stare into mine, probing.

Tenaciously staring back, I’m surprised that I end up feeling more and more comfortable. All I can see is his kindness, understanding and compassion, radiating out and filling me with a warmth so strong I break out into a beaming smile.

With a deep laugh, he leans back, breaking his intense stare. “Right there! That is exactly why I know you are the brave one of legend.” He smiles broadly before asking, “Why don’t you think that you are brave?”

“To be honest, I’m not sure why I haven’t really thought of myself as brave before. I suppose it’s because bravery is generally associated with being physically able to overcome some terrifying obstacle. However, just because society generally believes something, that doesn’t make it true in all circumstances.” I scratch my head for a moment before looking back into his enigmatic eyes. He nods his head, but remains silent with that same small smile in the corner of the lips. He gives me the time to gather my thoughts, silently encouraging me to continue.

I lie back in the grass once more, closing my eyes, humming in deep thought before saying, “I think bravery is having the courage to face your fears. That means being brave is going to be different for everyone.” I pause, considering how I have been brave in my own life; what fears I have had to face.

“For me, there is nothing more brave than being honest about who you are. I have struggled with the fear that others would reject me if they really knew me. Rather than bravely being my authentic self, I let my fear dictate who and what I could be.” Slow tears run down my cheeks as I sit up and take a deep breath. “Really, my fear is that I am not enough. It takes courage to know who you are and be vulnerable enough to share that with others.”

With a sad smile, I look back to him and I’m surprised to see him crying lightly as well. He smiles and says, “This is why you are the brave one. Despite those fears you are still brave enough to be vulnerable with others, and because of that, you give them the opportunity to be vulnerable themselves. This is the only way you can truly connect with and understand others.”

Bravery is not being fearless. To be fearless is to be reckless, for when you should fear a storm, a lack of fear would be the end.

Bravery is not ‘gathering courage’ before going if to face the battle.

I have never truly put stock on bravery.

But I feel that it’s not simple.

It’s knowing your afraid but striding towards. It’s determination blended with unwavering certainty and the most important thing. To understand that you are not the only one on the line.

For what would be the consequences? Would you take them all on? Because you are not the only one affected by them.

You would become Atlas. Taking the karma and consequences given, for the ones who believed in you and trusted you.

Bravery is not something to be identified, nor idolized. For those with bravery, know the most of what they should fear.

Okay, you do this. It’s not hard, right? People do this all the time. It’s not a big deal. It a big deal. It’s a huge deal!

No, no, calm yourself. This is for the best. You are miserable. You cannot go one like this.

Just knock, just knock. He’s your friend. Yeah, this hurt down the line, you’ll have to tighten your belt some. But you need this.

It’ll end up good, no it’ll end up great! Science! Learning! You want this, you need this.

Just do it.

Knock on his door. Smile, and say you need to talk.

Sit down. And hand in your two weeks notice.

Laugh. Cry. And be rid of that place.

Stock up on Ramen.

I watched her walk down the halls everyday. She held her head high. Speeding past the numerous kids that blocked her way in life. I didn’t stare at her in creepy stalker way. No, no, no, no. It was more of an..admiration. Like when you see her with her friends. She laughs and her smile is beautiful. She lights up a room with such childish yet enthusiastic personality. You couldn’t ever second guess it. Or when she gives you every bit of her attention to you. The feeling her soft gaze holds make you feel loved. You can’t even question if it’s true. Or that boldness she holds when she plays a prank on the teachers. Or casually sneaks in the teachers lounge to steal the test answers. Yet you can’t help but love it. However, what if you took a closer look into her. What if you were to second quests it? Or question the amount of her love? You’ll see the wreckage beneath her skin when she turns away from her friends. Or if you focused on how many holes were in her love, because she didn’t how it was to be loved. The bags under her eyes because it’s so exhausting to must up all the fragments of self-confidence. I dazed at her as she walked down the sidewalk. Admiring every strut down the path. She turned around. Her eyes hooked onto mine like fish bait. She smiles. Was it fake? I hope not, because when she turns around her face turns pained and cold. Except for a slight blush in her cheeks. I admired that bravery. The bravery she hauls to the surface when she wakes up everyday to the same demons. I love that bravery.

Bravery? What is bravery? Is it the soldier’s sword, cast in Ivory earnestly striking the enemy’s chest, preserving safety? Or the burdened slumberer, pulling the covers closer as they open their eyes, gravely facing the day?

In an ideal world, we could treasure both tails and heads: both are reflected in equal measure as copper twists and threads through turmoil’s wake.

All would do well to remember: Pressure doth the hero make.

My leg bounced up and down anxiously as I tensed up with bated breath in the waiting room. What would happen? I had no way of knowing how much time had passed as I was left to my own thoughts because of the batteries in the wall clock dying somewhere around 5am. What was I even doing out here? I knew what had to be done. Steeling my nerves I leapt from my seat and edged my way down the hall, gripping the wall for support as my feet snagged and pulled on the carpet. With one final push onwards I reached the swinging double doors at the end of the tube like corridor and pushed them open wide.

End of story, except not really. A pungent stench assaulted my nose in relentless waves but that was to be expected of where I was. The high pitched squeaks of wheels and deafening drips of liquid almost drowned out the desperate, airy gasps that escaped the people around me while their arms outstretched in hopes for someone to grab onto them and pull them back before it was too late. I had no business with them, but their families did, so I continued my trembling shuffle through the vast room towards the very end. More specifically: towards one person tucked away into the folds of the room’s corner. A youthful woman who looked worse for wear as though the chemotherapy treatments had sucked all the life from her fragile face.

‘I can’t do this, oh God I can’t face her I-‘ my thoughts jolted to a stop as I reached the foot of her bed and my knee numbly locked up as I whispered a small “hey...” before clearing my throat, smiling at her and repeating my greeting with more energy than I previously had. Inside I was panicking and afraid. My heart was racing, my mind blank and blood rushed in my ears until her thin hand reached for my own and her nimble fingers brushed against my knuckles tenderly.

No. I could do this. I had to do this. She deserves it. She deserves only the best after all she’s been through.

“How have you been mom? Anything new happening around here?” I questioned politely, wanting to ease her mind of any troubles coursing through her head to reduce her suffering as much as possible in what could be my final moments with her. She weakly parted her lips and as if to reply but sighed softly when she found she didn’t have the energy to do so. Her eyes looked so lifeless yet determined to stay and protect me.

“It’s okay mom... I’m okay... and so are you... you can go if you need to...” I hugged her lovingly and nuzzled her forehead, taking in her warmth to try and defrost the icy fear shooting up my spine at the prospect of losing my mom to cancer. I couldn’t be selfish. I had to be brave, for her...

When I think of bravery I think of knights, fighting dragons and saving princesses.

[i see a girl shove away her boyfriend with tears in her eyes and bruises on her wrists]

When I think of bravery I think of kings, conquering lands and ruling countries.

[i see a woman at the hospital with a pregnant belly and no one to hold her hand]

When I think of bravery I think of wizards, casting spells and defeating evil.

[i see a young black boy with his head held high as he ignores the slurs and screams around him]

When I think of bravery I think of superheroes, fighting villains and saving innocents.

[i see a trans man walking in his first pride parade with trembling hands and a wild grin]

When I think of bravery I think of pirates, sailing the ocean and killing terrible sea serpents.

[i see a small girl fight back tears as her weight on the scale rises in symphony with the laughter of her friends]

brav·er·y /ˈbrāv(ə)rē/ noun courageous behavior or character