What Does It Mean to Be Brave Now?
Bowman Lake, Glacier National Park, Montana
When I started this business in 2018, I heard from a few people who told me how brave I was. Some said they, too, had always wanted to start their own business but had never had the courage to try. Their comments didn’t make sense to me at the time. I felt far more scared than brave. Since that time, I have realized we all have different definitions for bravery.
When I attempt to define courage, I am reminded of one of my most vivid memories from my childhood. It took place at an indoor waterpark when I was 7 or 8 years old. I can still smell the chlorine and hear the echoing, gleeful screams of the other people in the huge concrete room. I had decided it was the day to conquer the tall, straight, fast slide I watched my family members go down multiple times. I had been too scared before, but that day I felt brave.
My dad got in line with me. A few minutes later we had made it to the top of the waterslide. I looked down, and the slide wasn’t even there. All you could see was the water far below. The fear started to creep in again, and I backed away from the edge.
Dad and I had a little conference off to the side. I don’t remember the exact conversation, but I am sure I must have expressed how crazy anyone must be to go down that slide. I couldn’t do it. It was a death trap. But I also hadn’t seen any injuries from people who went down it, I guess. Mom, Dad, and my older sister had all survived, after all. And I remembered the decision I had made minutes before to give it a try myself. I had to do it. I would do it. But I knew I didn’t have the courage on my own. I asked my dad to push me. He agreed, and we cut into the line and walked back to the edge.
My mom and sister were waiting at the bottom of the slide watching the whole time but unable to hear the conversation I had with my dad. Watching us back away. Watching us talk. Watching us come to the edge again. Watching me lay on my stomach on the mat at the top of the slide. Watching me close my red and teary eyes. Watching my dad give me a shove.
At first, the pull of gravity seemed so strong. I was falling, and there was no way to stop. But soon my fear turned into excitement, and I finally opened my eyes about the time I started gliding across the top of the water toward my family again.
My dad came down right behind me. He immediately was met by a very angry wife pounding him on the shoulder. He quickly defended himself saying, “She asked me to! She asked me to!”
The rest of the day, all I wanted to do was go down that slide. I had conquered it. All I needed was a push.
The past couple of years I have thought about that day hundreds of times. I see my mom and sister waiting for me in the pool, cheering me on. I feel my dad’s rough but gentle hand on my back, giving me just the smallest push to start me down that slide. That day, bravery looked like asking for help to reach a goal. Because I went down the slide, even in my fear, I knew I could do other hard things, too.
One of the hard things I have decided to do is scale back my business and accept a full-time position in marketing at a local non-profit. I am excited to work for an organization I love and with a talented team of people. H Squared Communications will continue, as I still hope to do some freelance writing, public speaking, large proofreading projects, and short-term communications consulting outside of normal business hours.
For three and a half years I have worked hard to run this business on my own. Under normal circumstances, business ownership can be lonely, but then came the pandemic. I have so missed being part of a team. I miss collaborating with coworkers and all the noise and chaos of being in an office. While I didn’t feel brave in 2018 when I started this business, I do feel brave today in admitting it isn’t for me and acknowledging my need for more engagement with other people.
Three years ago, I would never have envisioned making this decision, and it’s scary to make another career change. I am still grieving the plans I made that all were torched in 2020 and learning more and more about the person I am today. But I also keep picturing that little curly-haired girl at the top of the waterslide who asked for the push she needed to conquer her fear. She’s been inside of me all along.
I’m still not sure starting H Squared Communications was a courageous act, but it did teach me so much about myself, about other people, and about what matters. When I look back at this time, I hope I can focus on the fact that I was brave enough to try. I even succeeded. I grew. I experienced something truly remarkable. And then I moved on to the next hard thing.