Someone called me brave yesterday.

Someone called me brave yesterday.  My first response was to point out that I don't feel brave.  I had to remind myself that being brave isn't being without fear.  It's having that fear and facing it head on.  I guess I do fit that definition.  

I think this year has shown me that you can either sit back and let life happen to you and then blame the world for being against you and making you unhappy.  There's not much bravery in that at all.  It's also not a life-giving way to experience the world.  But some people do just that.  My ex is a great example of that.

Then there are people who make something out of what life gives them.  They don't sit back and hope for better times.  They make something good out of what they already have.  That's not to say they don't experience sadness, grief, anger, and all the other negative emotions.  Life won't always go how we want it to.  But they recognize there is something to be learned from every situation, they know that nothing is all bad so find whatever little good they can along they way, and they move through those challenges with purpose.

Last year was an awful year.  The heartbreak of the man I loved for two decades walking away without much of an explanation or warning was more than I could have ever imagined before it happened.  The fear of going out in the world completely on my own for the first time as a 42 year old woman was overwhelming.  But when I look back at my writing, my photography, the videos I posted to Instagram, etc. the amount of joy, happiness, and even peace I see in myself is incomprehensible given the year I had.  All that joy didn't happen by chance.  I made it happen.