Brave

Sarah Bareilles is a goddamn genius if you ask me. She takes her art seriously and is a late bloomer in comparison to some pop singers, which makes her feel like a kindred spirit. She’s also earnest and funny, as proven by her Instagram feed and the show she was in called Girls 5Eva, an absolutely hilarious show about a 90s girl group after they grew up. The title song went, “Gonna be famous 5 Eva / cuz 4 ever’s too short.”

I’d been having a conversation with someone I trust about my writing, and he told me I qualify my opinions too much, that I should just say what I have to say. Then I got on the treadmill, and the song “Brave” by Sarah Bareilles came on, and my brain exploded.

I felt her words like a shock when she said, “I wonder what would happen if you / SAY what you wanna say / let the words fall out / honestly. I wanna see you be brave.” It was like being smacked in the face, which was somewhat dangerous, as I am already a little precarious on a treadmill, tending to waver side to side a bit when I’m not paying attention. 

Musically, the upbeat piano, mostly repetitive chords, lay the groundwork, but the song is driven by rhythmic percussion. I think the instrument used is a drum machine, but it works in this case because it’s pop. The fact that she uses a real (non-synthesized) instrument such as a piano in a widely loved pop song is the unique move. Her voice is the only part of the song carrying melody. All other instrumentation is providing rhythm and depth, along with some backup singing, which I think is Ms. Bareilles’s voice recorded separately. 

I have specific memories of shout-singing this song in the car - it’s definitely a car song. Driving our younger son to and from the hospital provided an opportunity for hours and hours of music listening over the past few years. When this song came on, I mainly thought of bravery through the lens of my son undergoing cancer treatment. Brave, to be sure. But that’s not really what the song was about. It’s about speaking your mind, being brave enough to say what you really mean. 

It’s such a simple message but one we really need right now. Women’s voices are shut down over and over again, and we aren’t widely taught our own history, so we keep re-learning the same lessons time and time again, starting from what feels like square one each time. This essay by Celeste Davis points out how many times throughout history women have written to show that we are worth more than our bodies and beauty. But with every new era, every new generation even, it’s a discovery we think we’re making for the first time, that women actually are as smart as men. Men have controlled the playing field for so long that we’re never able to truly equalize our status in society. 

So again, the message is clear: use your voice. Say what’s on your mind, and don’t couch it in caveats and qualifications. Say what you want to say, and if there are consequences, you’ll deal with those too. Ms. Bareilles gives no guarantees of smooth sailing after saying what’s on your mind, but she just pleads for you to try. Just say it. “Your history of silence / won’t do you any good / Did you think it would?” 

As I trotted along on the treadmill, I found myself questioning the reasons behind my own fear. I don’t fear physical violence, but I do fear others’ words and how they’ll affect me. I fear people thinking I’m dumb or that I haven’t thought through my opinions or positions. I fear being thought of as small minded or unkind. And I want everyone to like me all the time. Why on earth do I care if everyone reading my stuff from the internet likes me? Maybe it’s because I, like lots of women, have internalized that a terrible thing to do is make people (men) feel uncomfortable. 

I don’t want to care what random strangers think of me. At all. But I always thought of holding back my internal thoughts/opinions/gut reactions as a kindness. I never considered the cost. What was it costing me to swallow my feelings? And what was it costing women as a whole? 

It costs us control of our own lives. It costs us status. It costs us actual dollars. 

In my particular case, it has cost me hours/days/weeks/whatever of lost time spent worrying about how I’m being perceived, as well as the loss of personal expression. What a waste of freaking time. What if I said what I meant and had the confidence to back it up? What if I trusted myself enough to believe my own perception of myself was more valuable than anyone else’s? What if I put aside fear and self-doubt and spoke my mind with the knowledge that I had every right to express myself? I wonder what would happen…