Dear Veera...

For a long time, I thought you were loud. Someone whose actions were always for the TV screen, like some grand act of bravery that was meant to be remembered. But you’re not always like that, are you? When no one else is watching, you shed that armor and identity you’ve built around yourself. It’s like you slip into moments so small that most of us don’t even glance at you.

But I looked once, and now, I guess you could say that we’re friends. Over the past few months, I’ve reached points where I’ve felt exhausted and mentally drained. I began despising my desire to achieve all of my endless tasks and goals. And then… you reached out, palm soft and grip firm. You bring about the bravery that’s not meant for an audience, but for ourselves, in the hopes that we can get back up and accomplish whatever it is we want to.

Psychology looks at you and thinks the same. Researchers found that courage isn’t the absence of fear, but the act of getting up and going on despite it (Rate, Clarke, Lindsay, & Sternberg, 2007). You don’t just sweep fear and doubt aside, but you give us enough strength to face it on our own. Much like a parent’s hand guiding us down the imperfect walk of life, you’re beside us at every step of the way, even when we don’t notice.

I realize now I’ve mistaken your grandeur for flashy overconfidence, without recognizing the quiet nature behind it. You are more than just power and strength and fearlessness. You are the courage holding us up when we’d rather crumble.

So thank you, Veera, for being stitched into the everyday. For reminding me that the choice to keep going isn’t just a shiny, prize to be won, but a daily practice.

With gratitude,

a girl with shaky knees and a determined heart.

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Rate, C. R., Clarke, J. A., Lindsay, D. R., & Sternberg, R. J. (2007). Implicit theories of courage. The Journal of Positive Psychology, 2(2), 80–98. https://doi.org/10.1080/17439760701228755