I think it’s brave that you go to Whole Foods even though you might run into someone you know and have an awkward conversation about why you’ve been out of touch for months. I think it’s brave that you continue to carry on at Yoga because someone might ask you how you are and you might begin to cry. I think it’s brave that you drive to meet a friend even though you don’t want to and carry on a conversation as if you have your shit together. I think it’s brave that you’re having Thanksgiving at your house even though surely you are not up for it. I think it’s brave that you show up at therapy week after week in case that helps somehow. I think it’s brave that you read your writing aloud as it is something that makes you vulnerable. I think it’s brave that you are a beekeeper. I think it’s brave that you teach a dance class, the moves long memorized but what if you forget something? I think it’s brave to live in California at all. I think it’s brave to walk up the street and say hello to the neighbors should you encounter any because they are quite unfriendly. I think it’s brave to tell anyone that you’re not doing well — but what good does it do to pretend? I think it’s brave to put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard and express yourself and share it online. I think it’s brave to be human and navigate this earth. I think it’s brave that you stood up to your mother despite it not having much effect. I think it’s brave to move 4 times in 3 years.

I think it’s brave to get up each and every day and be human.