I was called courageous this week; for simply being me. For being honest and true to who I am and living the life that only I can lead. It was a compliment of great magnitude, an honour, to be recognized for living my authentic life.
I have worked hard to get here, to finally stop carrying the burden of expectation and instead channel the energy that runs through me, that’s always been in me, but I was afraid to unleash.
Today, I am many things to many people but there is one, single defining constant that I can depend on, me. I have found a strength within me, that has come with loving and accepting myself in a whole new way.
And I’m proud of who I am.
I am a lesbian mom to two little boys (who I adore) and am ridiculously in love with a woman that makes me smile like an idiot and fills me with a warmth like I’ve never known. I feel lucky to have created this life, but I’ve never considered myself courageous.
But perhaps, when I was a closeted, unhappy and inauthentic woman, encountering someone living an honest, gay and happy life, would have been inspiring. Perhaps that interaction would have been a catalyst for the change that I was searching for. Maybe, I would have asked myself the questions I was so afraid to answer; I never had that epiphany, but I did eventually find my way.
Today, I’m living a life that fulfills my soul without pause for expectation or judgement but for the first time, I’m recognizing the possibility that a glimpse of my life may inspire authenticity in someone else’s journey.
And perhaps to them, I am courageous.