Raised to Be Brave

One night, as my mother and I sat together on the bed, we found ourselves in one of our usual candid, laughter-filled conversations.

When she teased me, I would laugh and say, “But I’m like this because of you. I got it from my momma.” Then we would both laugh.

When I asked, “What about my personality frightened you as a mother?” she took a deep breath before responding. “You’re a risk-taker, my darling,” she said, her voice tinged with concern. “Why does that frighten you?” “Because the world is often unkind to women who forge their own paths.” “Well,” I said, “I guess we should be grateful you raised me to be brave.” We both laughed, comforted by our shared understanding.

My mother had instilled in me confidence, tenacity, and unshakable faith, knowing I would need these traits for the road ahead. In primary school I was bullied terribly and often came home in tears, where I would be reminded, “You know the truth of who you are. Never let anyone drown out that truth.” As a teenager in high school, I struggled with a negative self-image, believing I was fat and ugly and that no one would love me. My mother told me how beautiful I was, to which I responded, “Of course, you would say that—you’re my mom.” But she did not stop there. She reinforced how talented and smart I was, never allowing me to wallow in self-pity but guiding me to focus on my God-given traits.

At university I was not easily swayed by newfound freedom or my peers. I had been taught to think for myself and to put God first. My university years were filled with service to God, surrounded by wholesome friends.

I never drank, smoked, or was mesmerized by bad boys—not because I lived a sheltered life but because I knew none of these things served me.

I had been trained to “put on the whole armor of God” (Ephesians 6:11, NKJV). The world has not always been kind to me, yet here I stand by God’s grace, a young woman who is God-fearing, self-assured, purpose-driven, and accomplished.

I am not perfect. I make mistakes, stumble, and fail, yet I know whose I am. I am also my mother’s daughter. I am brave.

Sibongile Tshabalala