As Brave As You Have To Be, or: I Hate Bugs!

The first cockroach I ever saw in real life, I killed with an expertly aimed slipper, fired from halfway across the room, while the eight five-year-olds in the room were distracted. When they asked me what kind of bug it was, I responded with entirely faked nonchalance and a shrug disguising a shudder “I don’t know, a dead one now.”

The second cockroach I ever saw in real life, I squealed, jumped, and then politely (if waveringly) asked my dad to kill it.

The difference between these two events and my behaviour during them, was how brave I had to be. People call me brave all the time. For a long time, I didn’t think of myself that way. But sometimes I am.

I’m certainly not the person who goes looking for danger. Or scary things. But I rarely let being afraid stop me. So I guess I’m as brave as I have to be.

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