Gryffindor

“You might belong in Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart. Their daring, nerve, and chivalry set Gryffindors apart.” — Sorting Hat

I’ve always known, deep in my bones, that I’m a true Gryffindor. Even when fear clung to my skin, I somehow managed to rise. Bravery didn’t always feel like a roar—more often, it arrived quietly, wrapped in trembling hands and uncertain steps. But I showed up. Again and again.

Still, there comes a time when being too brave, too often, leaves the pot of courage bone-dry. I remember those years when I lived on the edge. I flirted with risk, danced with chaos, and mistook recklessness for resilience. Every decision pushed a boundary. Every choice felt like I was testing the limits.

Until one day, the pot was empty. And I finally sat myself down. Body tired, heart heavier than I cared to admit. I realised how much I had been burning through myself just to prove I was brave.

That’s when the doubt crept in. Not all at once, but through quiet whispers of “what if” and a lingering fear of the unknown. That combination held me hostage. Kept me safe, but small. It made me wonder—was the pot truly empty, or did I convince myself it was? Maybe I was trying to protect myself from everything that felt too big, too fast, too uncertain.

In those moments, I lost her—the truest version of me. The one who once dared without second-guessing. I shrank into the shadows of hesitation, even when something inside me knew the unknown might be a good thing. But it wasn’t the world I was afraid of. It was the storm within.

So, I stayed. I didn’t run this time. I met the inner demons I had spent a lifetime avoiding. I didn’t fight them, I listened. And after many moons of letting the tides of memory and emotion crash over me, I found my footing again.

And now, when I speak of bravery, it’s not the loud, performative kind. It’s the kind that grows roots. The kind that allows space for softness. The kind that whispers—you’re safe now.

So yes, Sorting Hat, go ahead. Place me in Gryffindor. I no longer wear courage like a mask. I carry it quietly, but deeply. I feel brave from the inside. Brave at heart.