On the ramifications of being brave

The curious thing about being brave and shouting from the rooftops (or your crassly named blog) is that people tell you how rad it is that you are being brave. 

Which is kinda cool and kinda not. I tried to give you context in the first post I wrote but it is a lot to digest. I feel like I either downplayed the hard or it got missed or I don’t know what. Consequently, I have been thinking a lot about the consequences I have from being brave. Your results may vary but here is a short list of what I have faced for being brave. 

First of all I am tired. Moving as much as I have in the past 18 months is no joke. Downsizing an entire household, searching for housing again and again, figuring out the logistics of absolutely everything, trying to work remote, etc etc etc. There is ease and comfort and space that comes with routine and predictability. I frequently tell my therapist that I could handle everything that was coming out me with ease if only the cheese wasn’t different and I still hadn’t found bread I liked and could I please have a babysitter that isn’t $25 an hour. It is exhausting. I need a nap till 2021. 

Secondly, in my case, it is expensive. My brave has come with a long list of financial repercussions. Honestly, that is perfectly fine with me because I want to be here but my brave hasn’t been cheap. What no one sees once you are on the other side of divorce is how much that all really cost. Lawyers, even in an amicable divorce, aren’t free. Plane tickets to Australia aren’t inexpensive. Housing here in Melbourne or on Maui is absurd. But I want to live these places and make these choices. It is just costing A LOT.  

Thirdly, the hard gets lots in the shinny. I can’t tell you the number of times I have heard “Oh, you are moving to Maui? Life must be tough.” Actually, it is very very tough. I’ve stopped posting much on social media (except for my new venture @caughtkiting over on Instagram) because happy pictures don’t tell the whole story. Yes life is a blast and we live somewhere cool but I also have to live the day to day and do laundry and pay bills and clean the toilet and deal with a kiddo who is having a next level meltdown. 

Fourth I am very very very happy. I sat around a table at a restaurant in Eugene last fall with a group of friends who have known me for a long time. One of them remarked how much I seemed like me. More than I ever had. I couldn’t agree with them more. Living abroad and in such an international city feeds my soul in ways I can’t describe. I feel whole. I feel like me. 

Fifth I have lost a lot of friendship. But I have gained so many more. People I thought would stand by me haven’t and that is ok. Some of that is about me but mostly that is about them. I have found family everywhere I have traveled (homeschooling and kiting have ready built communities most places). 

I wouldn’t trade these consequences for being where I am now. They certainly held me back for many many years from becoming who I am now, more of who I want to be. I am sure whatever brave you are staring down has a similar list of ramifications and if they are impeding you from being fucking brave just now that I absolutely get it. You will be brave when you are ready, or fed up, or forced to, or something. Either way I’m here when you do (or don’t… I will still be here).