Once upon a time, there was a young girl who wanted to do it all without being bossed around and it got her into some trouble, but also taught her some valuable lessons.

Merida, from the movie Brave, is one of my favorite Disney princesses. I relate to most of her character traits. She’s wild and free, fiercely independent, short-tempered, willful, and brave.

My dad always had a “plan”. My siblings and I joke about it now, but he was all about what we were going to do for our schooling, our budgets, and our lives. Around the age of 12, my dad took me to breakfast one morning and drew a picture of a box. He described my life as being in this box, and as I grew older, the box would expand to give me more freedom. I can tell you right now, I was not about that dumb box. No, thank you. Like Merida, I spent a lot of time finding ways out of that proverbial box. Don’t tell me what to do, and don’t tell me how to do it.

I spent many years forging my own path. It took me forever to find my way after high school. I went to business school (thanks and no thanks, Dad.) I attended dental assisting school, and I was going to major in parks and recreation (another no thanks, Dad.) At some point, I landed in classes to be a CNA. It wasn’t very long as a CNA that I found that this was not for me, and I landed in nursing school. Twenty-nine years later, this career has served me well, and while it took from the ages of 17-25 to figure it out, I did finally get there.

Around the age of 27, I met and married someone I should not have. Our dating life quickly led to marriage, and I suffered for 15 years because of that willful and determined decision. The blessings of this are my six children. For years, I struggled with the decision to leave my marriage. With the help of my therapists (yes, more than one), I decided to be “scared but brave anyway” and get myself and my children out of that environment.

“Scared but brave anyway” is a term coined by one of my best friends. It could not sum up my life better. Like Merida, there have been times in my life, I’ve had to dig down deep and get brave even when I was completely terrified. Merida was afraid to lose her independence; she was fearful of rejection and misunderstanding. All too relatable. At times, for me, fear has driven me to motivation and decision-making. To pulling my kilt up and do some very hard but brave things.

Two years ago, I sent my daughter to the United States Naval Academy for Plebe Summer. I went from helping her fix all the things in her life and lying in bed spilling the tea together to radio silence. Scared but brave. Eighteen months ago, I buried one of my sons. Scared but brave. In two weeks, I will drop my 15-year-old off at a boarding school for 18 months. Scared but brave. Being brave is not without its angst. It’s nights spent awake with thoughts twirling and tears falling.

Merida was directed to “mend the bond”. The bond with her mother and not necessarily the tapestry, but in life, the tapestry can’t always be mended. Sometimes my tapestry is pieced together with duct tape and band-aids, sometimes I can’t find the pieces. The tapestry might be tattered, but it is mostly intact. I can look at my tapestry and see all the stitching where I’ve needed to be scared but brave. I can see the decisions where I’ve stepped outside of God’s plan and been willful or impulsive. I can see where, despite my best efforts to manage all the pieces, God is ultimately in control, leading me to places where I will need to be scared but brave.