What I didn’t know I knew

Her Perspective

What I didn’t know I knew

By Sharla Gorder

“Write what you know...”  —  advice to aspiring writers since the dawn of time. And I have followed that advice, for better or for worse, throughout my writing career. I write from personal experience. I don’t know how to do it any other way.

This is why November stymies me.

One of the great things about writing for “Bella” is that I get to stretch my writing muscles a bit. Each month, our editorial calendar lists a theme, with a few prompts to riff on. We are not required, as columnists, to write to the theme, but I usually enjoy the challenge. I often find that I “know” a lot more than I give myself credit for if I take the time to explore a novel topic.

But November ... darn November.

What do I know about being “Fierce, Fearless and Unforgettable?” Those adjectives have never, to my knowledge, accompanied my name in any way, shape, form or fashion. I mean, think about it. If you know me personally — or even if you know me only from my books and columns — would you describe me as fierce? Especially in the dictionary sense of the word: “aggressively powerful, intense or savage?”

Granted, I was privileged to have been born into a pretty protected life. I didn’t have to be fierce to survive. I realize that many are not so lucky. I do admire their tenacity, and I have much to learn from them.

But I do not see myself as fierce.

And I am most definitely not fearless. In fact, I do not value fearlessness. I value courage. I value bravery. And neither is possible without fear. Courage occurs in the face of fear. Bravery is the result of feeling the fear and moving through it.

If you don’t feel fear, you don’t have to be brave.

I have a deep respect for the courageous. And, again, much to learn.

I have a newish friend who confided in me. She was afraid, very, very afraid. I think terrified would actually be a better descriptor.

And who wouldn’t be? This beautiful, fit, friendly young woman found herself face to face with the very real possibility of paralysis — even paraplegia. She showed me the MRI. Multiple tumors had taken up residence in her spinal column, where they seemed to be plumping up and enthusiastically recruiting other masses to join the invasion.

The proposed surgery, like any spinal surgery, would be risky, only exponentially more so due to the number and positions of the masses. I can just imagine Amy’s fear as she signed waiver after waiver acknowledging these risks. And there were no guarantees that the surgeons would even be able to get them all.

She was under the knife for 10 hours. When she awakened, her right leg was completely numb and any attempt to move her other limbs caused blinding muscle spasms. She remained in the hospital for three long weeks — with a singular goal: She had to learn to walk again.

Halfway into the grueling ordeal, Amy texted me a photo of herself, propped up and strapped to her hospital bed, a blue exercise band stretched between her arms. She is smiling.

I responded simply with, “You are my hero du jour.”

She still is.

And not because she is fearless. Quite the opposite. She felt the fear, owned it, expressed it and courageously moved through it over and over again.

Her bravery helped me find mine. I, too, was facing a somewhat scary surgery — nothing like hers, but scary enough to make me fearful nonetheless. I am so very grateful to Amy for trusting me with her fear and then humbly showing me her courage. So inspiring. So impressive.

So unforgettable.

Hmmm. I guess I do know a little something about those November prompts after all.

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