I’m not brave

When I read this morning’s prompt I didn’t think I had anything to contribute to the topic. The prompt was “How are you brave?”

I wouldn’t describe myself as brave at all. I’ve lived much of my life being afraid to take chances. Afraid to look stupid, or silly. The only real change I relished was rearranging furniture in a room.

But over the years I’ve had to make myself do what felt like brave things. I decided to get divorced from my first husband. Then I had to be brave when my second husband made that same decision and told me he didn’t love me anymore. And I say I did these brave things, but the reality is that I only did what I had to do when there was no other choice. I didn’t like having to leave my home and start a new life in a different state, but it was what made the most sense. Almost two and half years later I know that it was the right decision, but it felt so hard at the time.

Deciding I was ready to date just months later felt brave, I guess. I was scared, but also curious, and mostly lonely. I needed companionship. I wanted to feel liked, wanted. I wasn’t really planning on finding love. And now I’m less than two months away from celebrating a two-year first date anniversary. Our first date was a walk in the park. Yesterday we started the new year with a walk around this lake.

Furman University Bell Tower.

I’m not brave. But maybe I’m learning to make better decisions.

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