I don't think of myself as being particularly brave. I think that I'm just doing what anyone would do if they were in my position, because, really, what choice do I have? Would I NOT be here for my daughter? Would I pack up and leave my family? Would I not do everything I can to improve Rachel's quality of life? That's not bravery, that's love and commitment.
Rachel is the one who's brave. She's the one who lives with the demons in her head. The ones called epilepsy and anxiety. She lives with the medication side effects, the self-doubt, and depression. She wakes up every day, and makes the decision to keep putting one foot in front of the other, to actively work on the anxiety and panic, to put herself out there in public, and learn to cope with the crowds and noise, without panicking.
Synonyms for bravery: courage, daring, dauntlessness, fearlessness, guts, heart, intestinal fortitude, moxie, nerve. I can see every one of these in Rachel, every day. I know that there are people in our lives who see only an over-protected hothouse flower. They don't see what we see in her when they're not here; what she lives with, what she goes through, how she works to overcome her challenges. No one will ever know how hard Rachel fights to have her best life.
Rachel doesn't even know how brave she is. She just lives her life, and inspires me every day.
