Bravery takes practice
What's on your bravery resume?
It’s time to update my bravery resume.
I’ve been afraid most of my life. I used to think that being afraid meant I wasn’t brave. Life taught me that to be brave isn’t to have no fear, it’s to not let fear stop you from having a joyful, vibrant life.
You don’t have to be brave all the time, just when it’s needed most.
I need a boost of bravery as I find myself living alone for the first time in 28 years.
Lately I’ve been reminding myself this is hard, but I’ve done harder. I raised my daughter alone for 18 years and bought a house for us and managed it on one income, and a meager one for years.
Life constantly gives us opportunities to be brave. Cancer rubbed my nose in fear back in 1998. That was the scariest year of my life. Every time one fear was conquered, three more popped up to take its place. Fear was my constant companion before, during and after surgery, chemo and radiation.
Finally, I confronted them head on. One day I wrote down all my fears so they would stop swirling around inside my head. Within minutes, I had a long list of fears in my journal. I was scared of…
Having cancer.
My daughter, Gabrielle, kept telling me I looked beautiful bald.
Losing my breast.
Being disfigured from surgery.
Going under anesthesia and not waking up from surgery.
Losing both breasts and never feeling like a woman again.
Being scarred and ugly. Never feeling sexy again.
My husband losing interest in me.
Losing all my hair from chemotherapy.
Being too sick to exercise and eat.
Missing work and losing my job and my house.
The chemo not working. The cancer spreading.
Being told I only have months to live.
Dying before my daughter married.
Dying before I had grandchildren to spoil.
Getting pitied by everyone.
Getting pitied by no one.
Dying a horrible, long, painful, boring death.
Lingering too long and making everyone miserable.
Once I listed all my fears, I surrender them all. I set them all in God’s lap, a God who loves me, not my old bogeyman God. I asked God to remove whatever fears stood in the way of being useful and asked God to fill that huge empty space left with great love.
My friend Brian taught me this: “Instead of telling God how big your problems are, tell your problems how big your God is.” It works on fear, too.
Bravery takes practice!
I tell my fears what a badass my God is. I’m starting to tell them what a badass I am, too. Cancer made me braver. Even though many of the fears came true, life was still good.
Self-help guru Louise Hay once said, “Fear is lack of trust in yourself.” Whoa. That gave me a jolt. Instead of telling myself, “I’m going to be brave” I tell myself, “I AM brave.”
Now when I’m scared, I call it bravery practice. If I have a dentist appointment, I get to practice being brave. In the elevator, I pose like Superman. In the bathroom, I chest thump like a gorilla. Yep, I got this.
Fear is boring. It keeps you in the rut of what is familiar, and you keep carving that groove deeper and deeper. The difference between a rut and a grave? There’s a little more room to move around, but not much.
When I have to face a challenge that scares me, I reframe it. I tell myself I’m going to Warrior Training School or Bravery Boot Camp. No matter how scary life is, I’m in. All in.
The dissolution of my 28-year marriage sent me back to Bravery Boot Camp. It’s forced me to review that Bravery Resume life gave me.
What’s the most courageous thing you’ve ever done? Write them all down in your Bravery Resume. I wrote at the top of my list, “I’m so brave that I…
Had a baby at 21 without any pain killers and was my own Lamaze coach.
Ended an engagement with a man who cheated on me. I didn’t leave him for another man. I left him for me.
Faced cancer head on with a lumpectomy, chemotherapy and radiation. Faced the world bald.
Found out in genetic testing that I carried a gene for breast cancer. Had both breasts and ovaries removed to prevent getting cancer again.
Decided against breast reconstruction and faced the world flat.
Got counseling to heal from child abuse and sexual assaults.
Spoke the truth about the abuse and risked losing my family.
Wrote columns that “disturbed the comfortable” including prosecutors, judges, police chiefs and editors, the very bosses who signed my checks.
Had both lenses in my eyes replaced to remove cataracts and restore my vision to nearly 20/20.
My old EMT uniform from Kent State University Volunteer Ambulance Service still fits.
Became an emergency medical technician in college and gave first aid to victims of accidents, injuries and illnesses.
Responded to a fire at a propane gas company with propane tanks flying in the air blowing up all around me.
Picked up dead bodies for a living for a funeral home to pay the rent.
Went white water rafting three times and fell out of the raft and into the river every time.
Learned to drive a stick shift even after the car almost slid all the way down a massive hill because I had it in the wrong gear.
Rode a horse in the desert in Tucson at night with two strangers who carried guns to scare away coyotes. Best ride of my life!
Spent a week at The Meadows to heal from childhood trauma.
Forgave my dad and my mom. Forgave me for believing I was unlovable.
I conquered Lion’s Head at Dolly Sods in Almost Heaven West Virginia.
Backpacked the mountains at Dolly Sods, a federal wilderness area in West Virginia when I was 21 and again when I was 62. I carried 30 pounds of food and gear on my back, cooked meals at a campfire, tied the food up high to keep away bears and slept in a tent every night.
Took a boat ride to Skellig Michael in Ireland that was so rough three out of five boats turned back and the lady next to me threw up the whole time.
Climbed all 618 steps alone to the top of Skellig Michael and prayed the psalms in the beehive huts monks built back in the 8th century, where The Force Awakens and The Last Jedi were filmed.
Took a doors-off helicopter ride over an active volcano in Hawaii and felt the heat of the Earth churning out lava below me.
Flew to New York City and met a slew of publishers and came home with a book deal that sent my first book, God Never Blinks around the world. It’s now in 24 languages.
Did four book tours in Poland and hugged thousands of readers.
Faced life with hope every single day no matter what scared me.
Yes, I can handle handle whatever life throws my way. And more.
I have a resume that reminds me that I’m bigger and stronger and bolder than I often feel. My bravery credentials prove that I am more than a survivor.
I am a warrior.
So are you.
Hey Regi — I remember when I started working at a nonprofit in Ravenna in 1982. You joined the staff shortly after me. We both reported to the same executive director - Bob. There were challenges at the workplace including Bob not turning on the heat in your office area. You needed to wear a hat and gloves at work. We knew each other, before we worked together. I did notice, at work, you were somewhat uncomfortable. Your hands would shake, and you were anxious to do everything right. I remember a time you typed a full-page paper for Bob and he returned it with a big red circle. That meant you could not use white out but would need to type it all over again. You seemed distraught and anxious. You said, "Bob never seems satisfied." I was hoping you weren’t going to allow him to push you into leaving the job. What I didn’t realize at the time was, you would kick into bravery and face the music. As God presented himself over the next six months, Bob was terminated. You and I were left to keep the agency open. An agency that was sorely needed in the community. Our mission was to help individuals who suffered from alcoholism and other drug addictions, to achieve recovery. We had a very short time frame to write grants and get them approved at the regional level. Your planning and writing skills helped us save the agency. This was before you returned to KSU to become a journalist. The grants were submitted, reviewed, and approved - and the agency did not have to close. Again, your bravery was about making sure the services remained available to the community. There were many challenges along the way. That is just the nature of life and work. When things got difficult, you always showed up with pen and paper ready to capture the moment and develop a course of action. Yes, your bravery has always made the difference!!
Regina, I have loved you from the first time I found your column in the Plain Dealer so many years ago! I even cut out a few of them and kept them on the refrigerator for years!
This article of your bravery was so amazing!! Thank you for sharing it. It made me stop and think about all of my fears and some of them that I have become brave in.
The latest thing in my life where I am learning, a new level of bravery is living as a widow. My precious husband of 46 years died from Covid 3 1/2 years ago.
I was so afraid of everything at first. How am I gonna survive financially how am I gonna survive on my own? And in this new disgusting political climate, what’s gonna happen to me?
I take a deep breath and I take my challenges each day as they come… some days, I fail. But I’m doing better each day.
My bravery resume list is getting longer!! Thank you and please never stop writing!!
❤️🌹