Brave

  “Being ready to face and endure danger or pain; showing courage.” That is the definition ofBravery. I am not one to show bravery or courage when it comes to anything that leads to an adrenaline rush. I am not one to be fond of heights, deep water, public areas, waterskiing, wakeboarding, elevators or being a passenger in a car. On the flip side of all of that though, I want to live like no other twenty-two year old has ever lived before. I want to do things and go places that people believe are impossible to venture too. I want to travel the world and meet people who are different than me. I want to live on the edge and go beyond my limits. But with all of that, where does bravery fit in with my life if I am afraid of everything else?  Am I even considered brave?

I would like to believe that I have done so many things that people my own age either want to do what I have done as far as travels go, or they sit back and say “no way.” If I am going to be honest with you, I personally don’t want this life and this journey that I am on to come to a stop. Ever. A lot of people view my life as me being “unstable” or “immature”. In the beginning, I agreed with them. There would be times where I would be upset with God for the path that He had me on. There would be times where I would be so scared that I didn’t think I would make it to the next day. My senior year of High School, when this journey first began, I walked the school hallways, scared and full of fear and anxiety. I made myself sick, and cried in the bathroom stalls. I purposefully would miss my classes just to try and get away from everything…from everyone. I didn’t want to find myself going to the homeless shelter after school, when I knew everyone that I passed in the hallways had a place to go home to. I would like to think that all would count for something, right?

  Let me put bravery into my perspective for you.

   I have been through a lot of, so called “crap” in my life. At twenty-two, I think I have the right to say that I have seen things that I wish I would have never seen, said things that I wish I never said. I have gone here and there to look for things that I, myself, at the time, didn’t even know what I was searching for. I have lived behind the curtain and with the label of “homeless” and “will work for food” attached to my forehead. I have witnessed and have been a victim to scenes of violence, abuse, and manipulation. I have gone through the trials of two pregnancies that had a result of numbing loss in the grief of premature miscarriages. I have come from the life of where I lived in the secrets of truth of being a victim to countless touching’s and vulnerability that I had no sense of control over.  I have lived behind a masquerade of trying to be the “wild one”, while in all reality, I was making myself more vulnerable to be attacked by humans like a lion and its prey.

BRAVE.

I have traveled as far as the east is to the west, and have come in contact with many different people with many horrific stories and testimonies. I have lost loved ones along the way. I know what it is like to live a life of addiction, mental and physical addiction to figurative garbage. I have seen the infamous dirty work and rebellion on the sidelines of “one night stand”, not once, but more times than can be counted with my fingers. I have been the girl who searched for love and acceptance in the eyes of men, men who were complete strangers and who tore me in a million pieces like paper going through a shredder.

COURAGEOUS.

I have been the one who would be called fat and ugly all because I wasn’t what society wanted me to be. I have been the woman who has suffered with the disgusting addiction of sex, party scenes, hatred, and anger. I was the girl who got caught up in myself that I went off the “band wagon” and jumped on the train of depression and suicide thoughts that raged through my vulnerable mind. Day in and day out. The acts of binging and purging were a part of me. Gripping my life in its hand and holding me hostage with absolutely no escape or sense of freedom, that I would be able to gain with my own power. Constantly dying to self and laying myself down at the foot of my own grave. I considered myself to be nothing. I was just like the next criminal to run away from the police, except it wasn’t cops and the law that I was running from. I was running at high speed from those that wanted to help me.  I ran until there was nothing left of me or in my nature to continue going. I ran until that person simply…DIED.

BRAVE.

Through everything that God has allowed me to go through and endure, I have found what it means to be brave. It does not mean that I have to portray it by jumping off a cliff and falling to my death just to prove my bravery. It does not mean that I have to conquer my fear of heights, even though that will come in it’s time…that’s not what makes me brave. What makes me brave is being able to trust God and to have faith that all will be okay. Bravery is all about taking a step into the unknown and walking upon the unfamiliar waters that come with storms. That is bravery.

I am brave. I am strong and courageous. I was made to be brave and to survive the storms of life, even if it means to float. That is true bravery. I am alive…and that in itself makes me….

BRAVE.