A matter of bravery

Maybe a month ago LT told me I was the bravest person she knew. Today, my Person spat the same words in a patronizing curse. Intentions aside, two of my greatest friends have labeled my brave and its been present for me but I am unsure what I feel about it.

It dawned on me when he and I spoke of decision making that perhaps my affinity for the spontaneous and wild was a bit too reckless of the practical soul. It hits me when I say “just…” and its so much more complex to them. It is never a matter of just. And perhaps my penchant for the melodramatic, surely derived from my mothers side, paints decisions as life or death because for me, it always boils down to a simple matter of just…

However, this bravery they speak of; the stuff that allows me to be open here with every stranger and acquaintance alike…to speak of my life and my love with such candidness that is rarely found in everyday conversation. The bravery that moved me 3000 miles outside my comfort zone.  The bravery that loosened my grip on the for sure love of my life (to date) because for all his good it still wasn’t enough. The bravery they speak of and for at least LT admires…it leaves me in a lonely spot. Because for all those that applaud what I do, in the same breath they usually assert that they never could…and so we find ourselves at odds. 

In seeing the colors that I see in people I get to see their essence and their absolute potential, which as you can imagine can be frustrating if they do not see it in themselves. Most people would more readily believe harsh and even invalid criticisms of them than praise and affirmation. Is it a daring thing to know your worth, capabilities, and strengths?
To know it without a need for validation or reassurance, does that take courage to admit? I believe in this world we are so often made to second guess ourselves, explain the inexplicable, and entertain doubts as healthy curiosity. But its not the whole story, doubt should not be debilitating. Why has it become such?

Terri says that when we move to a next phase in development we are often most intolerant of the step we just left. I feel this is true of me and living in fear. I struggle with being empathetic to those who seem to find comfort and solace in misery for fear of trying something different. I told J I want a man who is not afraid. A man who doesn’t feel he needs to prove his manhood by being unfaithful or disrespectful or any of those silly things our society has promoted. A man who, in essence, doesn’t fear love. And my friends…I just try to listen and be there and keep my opinions to myself. I reconcile trying not to find the fear as weakness, because of course I am not complete void of it and its awful to think of myself as that judgmental.

I’ve just found that following your heart feels so damn good. I can’t imagine living any other way. But I need to be able to accept everyone where they are as well. In various stages of their own journey. And maybe I just need to be patient with the guys too…I guess its my faux pas to believe that because of their gender they are any less susceptible to fear than women are and then much less forgiving. So I need to work on that. Being more understanding. Being more forgiving. Letting things take their course. Finding some badge of bravery in patience and empathy.


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