A Girl Called Fearless

When I grow up, I want to be Miss H. 

She’s the real deal. What you see is what you get. And if you don’t adore her – tough cookies. She doesn’t care (or notice), and at the end of the day, it’s only your loss. Because she’s amazing. 

From the very beginning, this girl of mine has been fearless. She flew into this world ready to conquer it. 

Friday we ventured to an indoor rock climbing facility. She’s done rock climbing before, but it has been a while. 

In the beginning, she was leery. She’d climb half way, then come back down. 

“I’m scared,” she said.

“Okay,” I replied. “But you’re brave.”

“Being brave doesn’t mean you’re not scared,” she rolled her eyes at me. “But you do it anyway.”

And that was that. 

She was off.

She conquered nearly all of the walls except the ones where the rocks were litterally too far apparent for her to reach. Walls that sloped and curved? She was a master!

“Mom!” She hollered at me at one point. “Look at me! I’m way up here! I’m not even scared anymore! I’m fearless.”



Pros and cons.

On the bright side, nothing scares her enough to not at least attempt it.

On the down side, nothing scares her enough to not at least attempt it. 

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