What is one way you are growing braver?

Every day on Instagram, I share a new journal prompt through The Journal Muse. It's my way of encouraging reflection—offering gentle nudges to those who, like me, are trying to write their way through this wild and wondrous life. At the end of every month, I compile all the prompts into a free downloadable PDF, in case you missed a few or want to start fresh.

I include the PDF of prompts in my monthly newsletter. You can join the community of 500+ subscribers here.

Today’s prompt is one I feel in my bones:
What is one way you are growing braver?

And here’s my answer:

I think I’m growing braver by choosing to stop begging for something that was never mine.

For the first time in 41 years, I’ve stopped trying to prove myself to someone who was committed—deliberately and consistently—to misunderstanding me. There’s a deep grief in realizing someone you wanted love from doesn’t have it to give. But there’s a deeper freedom in finally accepting it.

There was a moment recently—sharp and cold and clarifying—when I realized the truth: It’s not me. It never was.

I am not the broken one for wanting more than scraps. I am not wrong for needing care, connection, effort, or at the very least the absence of deliberate hurt. And I am certainly not the problem for daring to grow past the constraints that were handed to me by someone who never really saw me at all.

I think the bravest thing I’ve ever done is walk away. Not in anger. Not even in protest. Just in quiet, soul-deep certainty that I no longer belong in places that hollow me out.

And here’s the wild part—without that rejection weighing me down, without the chronic ache of trying to be good enough for someone who made a sport out of withholding... I am blooming.

My writing is on fire.
My confidence is waking up.
My life—my actual life—feels full.

I used to think my talent was something to be ashamed of. Too much. Too intense. Something that made me different in ways that would never be safe. But now I see it clearly: I was never too much. They were simply unwilling to meet me where I shone. It takes nothing to be clever. It takes everything to be brave. And I’ve always had both.

I’ve also grown braver in another way: I am no longer afraid of narcissists. Not the covert ones, not the loud ones, not the ones who attack with smear campaigns and manic accusations and victim cosplay so convincing they probably believe it themselves.

No matter what they say now, no matter what they do—I see them.
And they know it.
That’s why they spiral.
That’s why they rage.

But I don’t respond with fear anymore. Not to prove, not to defend, not even to clarify.
Because I’ve already won. I am whole. I am free. I am safe.

And that?
That is what bravery looks like for me.

Peace, Love, and Inspiration,
~Britt Wolfe💚