Shadows of self

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What happens when you have overcome your fears? What do you do when your heart no longer pounds profusely and you no longer get dizzy, stutter or even feel the heat of your skin blushing?

'You do it again' You say with a shrug that doesn't become you.

I study your face, searching for traces of the insecurity that I have considered part of your appearance. A part of every expression, every decision you've ever made. Your features look foreign without it.

'I will never be entirely free of it. I'll need to work on this, challenge myself, for the rest of my life.'

Your face shows me an expression I know and remember: fatigue. A deep sigh just behind your eyes from glancing at the rocky road ahead. I supress the shadows of a smile that threatens to break out across my lips. This new you is strange to me, and I feel a flash of guilt for thinking that maybe I don't know you without the anxiety, the stress and the sorrow. You cross your arms over your chest, tilt your head to the side and smile that crooked smile that you used to save for very special occasions. Is this one of them? I don't know what you want me to say. "Congratulations"? "Well done"? "I'm happy for you"? I choose to remain silent, and continue studying the calm in your eyes that used to flutter, and the smiling stillness of your lips that no longer trembles. I know I will have to say something soon but I just can't decide what would be fitting.

I was the one who put you up for it. You said you needed professional help and I encouraged you to get it. I made the calls for you, I booked your first appointments. Eventually you didn't need me anymore. I never fully realized how much it held you back. But looking at you now, standing confident, studying me as I'm studying you, waiting, the change is obvious.

I hesitate a second too long and you speak again. This time I hear just a hint of your old insecurity hidden in your voice.

'You don't have to do things for me. I can handle it. And I need challenges, to continue to get...' Here you pause, thinking, trying to find the right word. '...better. Stronger.'

And finally, I speak. 'You were never weak. You're the bravest person I know.' I can feel tears burning behind my eyelids, and I fight not to blink, not to make them spill over. I'm not sure why I want to cry, nor why I won't let myself. I feel silly. Now I'm the one who restlessly wriggles my toes and fingers, not quite knowing, or remembering, how to stand still.

'It's easy to be brave when you have so many fears.' The crooked smile is back, and my tears spill over. I close the space between us, carefully wrapping you up in my arms, not knowing if I'm doing it to encourage you or to comfort myself. I tell you I'm sorry. Sorry that I didn't know, didn't realize, didn't do more. You hold me at arm's length, and I notice the tracks of my tears have given your hair lowlights. It suits you.

'I know' You say. 'I don't think I fully understood either. I feel better now though, more free. It's nice for a change.'

You draw a deep breath and divert your eyes to the floor. Your hands find their way into your front pockets.

'I'm so tired of being disappointed in myself. Tired of being scared, tired of not being able to do, to be, so many things I would like to.' You look at me again now, and I can sense the determination in your eyes, and words, as you say: 'I think most of all, I'm tired of having to be brave, of having to fight. But you can't fight for me anymore. I have to get better. Do you understand? I have to fight now, so I won't have to fight so hard much longer.'

I smile, because I understand now. You don't need me to fight your battles, but you still want me to. You still need me, to not fight for you, to not let you become the shadows of yourself again. I finally feel ready to say the words I'm supposed to say.

'Congratulations. Well done. I'm happy for you.'