What it Takes to Be a Hero

An open letter to my heroes,

My heroes, you are the ones who struggle every morning to drag yourselves out of bed; but in the end get up and seize the day. You know what it’s like to wish things were different. To wish that maybe one morning you won’t wake up, or you’ll wake up and your life will be drastically different, in a better way. Dreams that never seem to come true haunt you. The “gifted children” who grew into placeless adults. You don’t know what you’re doing, not yet at least; but you keep going anyways. You are valid, worthwhile, and loved.

My heroes, you are the children who came out of circumstances that might have broken anyone else. You came from backgrounds of abuse, loss, trials and sufferings. You hid bruises given to you by people who claimed they loved you and showed them compassion they did not deserve. To all of you. The children who tucked in their parents at night, when the bottle was empty. To the children who pretended to be asleep when they were scared of what was happening to and around them in the dark. To the children who did everything they could to protect those they love when they shouldn’t have had to. When they should have gotten to just be children. You are valid, worthwhile, and loved.

My heroes, you are the girls who struggle with five o’clock shadow and the guys who struggle to bind their breasts. The non-binary folks who long for androgyny or just to be happy with themselves no matter what their appearance. Everyone wants to belong somewhere, and you find yourselves day by day continuing to grow as people. You keep pushing onwards to be yourselves. Whether you’re out in the open or still in your closet, you are my hero for the way you continue on. You are valid, worthwhile, and loved.

My heroes, you are the ones facing hidden battles, that nobody understands unless they face them too. You fight the monsters called depression, PTSD, or schizophrenia. You battle the demons called epilepsy, autism, or fibromyalgia. There are too many to name, these invisible illnesses, wars no one else can see you fight. You don’t look sick. That’s what you hear most frequently. But every day, you get up, and you start a new battle to win the overall war. You keep going, no matter how bad you hurt, no matter how much you long to quit. You are valid, worthwhile, and loved.

My heroes, you are the ones who have dreams to chase. The artists who have portfolios of unseen paintings. The writers who have told a thousand stories from the makings of their own minds. The barista saving up for medical school. The cashier working three jobs to take care of their families. and to the people who are still figuring out where you belong and what you want to do. You are valid, worthwhile, and loved.

I call you all out here now to read this letter. Every day that you push forward is another day that you have won a victory, and another day you have inspired me to keep going. I look at you all, as I walk down the sidewalk fighting my own invisible battles. I watch you all in the supermarket wondering how you do it, how you keep going, because all I want is to give up. But I can’t. I can’t give up because I watch you all fight these battles and I know that if you can do it, so can I. Because like you, maybe I’m someone’s hero. And maybe, like you, I am valid, worthwhile, and loved.

Thank you all,

Love,

A Survivor