“Bran thought about it. “Can a man still be brave if he’s afraid?”
“That is the only time a man can be brave,” his father told him.”
― George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones
A Five Minute Friday prompt from The Gypsy Mama that I finally feel brave enough to post. I did write this on a Friday, though. In 5 minutes.
For those that don’t know what the Five Minute Friday prompt is, here’s what Gypsy Mama Lisa-Jo says about it: “Around here we write for five minutes flat on Fridays. We finger paint with words. We try to remember what it was like to just write without worrying if it’s just right or not. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.”
The prompt: BRAVE
Right now, I need to be braver than I’ve needed to be for a long time.
I’m just made a cross country move with my family, to a city in which I have never lived and only know a very few people. I’m scared. And because I was the one who pushed for this move, I feel as though I have to be brave for my husband and son. That’s really hard when you want to burst into tears at inopportune moments, at the thought of leaving your friends and family behind.
You see, I’ve never been very good at making friends. I’m shy and find it so super hard to put myself out there. And I’m chronically insecure, so even if I do manage to put myself out there and meet new people, I assume that they’re just being nice or polite and that they don’t Really want to be my friend.
And once I have made friends, it would seem that I’m not particularly good at keeping them. I’m selfish and self-absorbed and prone to depression which makes me withdraw from the world because I don’t want anyone to see me weak. And because I’m so disorganised I’m often unintentionally thoughtless and forget people’s birthdays and anniversaries and kids birthdays and first days of school and all the other stuff you’re supposed to remember. And when I don’t know what the right thing to say is, I don’t say anything at all. Because I don’t want to upset my friends even more or make them think of stuff that makes them unhappy, and this makes it seem like I don’t care when someone is going through a hard time and needs my support. I’m also not very perceptive, so if my friend’s need a shoulder to cry on they need to be pretty explicit and tell me so. Apparently, I’m a pretty shit friend, as has recently been pointed out to me in all its grisly and painful detail.
And this makes me even more afraid, because if this is how the people who have known me for a decade feel, how the hell am I going to make and keep New friends in a new city?!
