That’s all. 

It sounds so simple. Maybe for you it is and always has been. For me though, it was compplicccaaatttted! For so long; for too long. I grew up on both sides of the train tracks per se- both financially and religiously. I’ve had both a stable upbringing and a chaotic toxic one. I’ve experienced what healthy and whole can be and also survived what no child should, or very often does. This is me…braving up and being me. If you can’t be transparent with yourself… then who are you really? There’s reasons we are all the way we are, feel the way we do, think the way we do,  do the things we do. We see the world thru our own angle and it won’t always align with other people and that’s ok. I’ve found my people in this space. They are the shooting stars, standing out amongst the rest. I found mine when I least expected it and you will find yours too.

In many seasons being brave means different things. Being brave can have different definitions. For me,  being myself meant wearing a lot of different hats. And that’s ok. I absolutely love who I am. It feels good to say that, but mostly to know that. If you need to: say it with me… “I love who I am”. Gosh that feels powerful. 

So I have put the meaning of Brave Up # BU behind most everything I am and do. I’ve put it on baseball bats and keychains, the cover of my future book and love letters to my kids. Well actually,  the book cover in my perfect world would actually read ‘Brave (the fuck) up’. But that’s just me being real with my own self talk. Double down knee prayers and a few f words here and there are truly what makes the espresso hit the spot in my life. 

I have a lot of stories, experiences, and perspectives that simply don’t fit in the box. I’ve realized when I go to talk about them that I instead stay quiet because some are frankly too far fetched to even believe unless you were there. I started this blog in my soul years ago, but it wasn’t perfect yet so I couldn’t actually do it. What if I made people angry, or they didn’t like what they read, or I lost a friend? Well, my time to edit my life to fit better into their stories expired… so there’s that. 4 months ago I was initially given until end of summer to live so according to them I have 6 days. When I do go someday I won’t care about their opinions, I’ll only wish my tribe knew me. So this…this is everything me.

No, I don’t believe that is my story anymore, but also for two days recently it felt pretty touch and go and I just straight up need to do this for me. Facing death is a real thing as it turns out and there’s just no way I can let this part of me die yet. I stilll have more to say, to write, people to hug and love. Writing is my safe place and I need to feel safe right now.  It’s scary as fuck right now, but also I’m safe in His arms. I’m wearing my Kings love around me and oh how our God is so real and so protective. Until this encounter with death, He was my ‘Most of the time’. Now God is my everything and 99 percent of the time it’s just me and Him on the mountain top and Him and me in the valley of death… so yes God, here I am. Use me.

This is for me. If you get anything from it then it is most definitely for you too. I love you. 🤍- me 

Written August 25th, 2024