The Courage Between the Leaps: How Bravery Really Builds

I think that taking the first leap of faith gets too much credit for needing courage. I actually feel like courage comes from everything that happens both before and after taking that leap—and from why you took that leap in the first place.

I've thought a lot about courage over the years, maybe because I was a gymnast. So much of my time and thought in my later gymnastics years became focused around whether or not I was going to "go for" a difficult—but mostly just scary—skill. These skills could be on any apparatus, but the one that held most of our attention was the balance beam. Beam was my best event. I rarely fell off and felt a lot of confidence up on that 4-inch apparatus that, to me now, 25 years later, looks extremely terrifying.

But building my courage on beam was a process. Like all processes of building courage, it was done one step at a time. It involved breaking everything down into small, tiny increments of growth. This approach, initially developed in a systematic way to create athletes like Nadia Comaneci, Mary Lou Retton, Kim Zmeskal, Keri Strug & so many more, has highly influenced how the sport has developed over the years.

I know this intimately because after graduating college, I became a beam coach myself. I really loved that experience, and honestly, most of it involved talking to little girls about how to be brave and how to cope with fear. Interestingly, these conversations weren't centered on the first-time experience of doing a skill, which was a huge deal, but rather on managing the fear that showed up on a day-to-day basis.

I remember pretty clearly having a successful year as a gymnast myself at age 13, then realizing I had four years ahead of me of being scared every day if I wanted to compete in college. I decided to stop during those high school years. And as life has it, I returned to gymnastics and walked onto the team in college, which resulted in some really bad sprained ankles—but also in facing my fears again.

The Real Work of Courage Isn't the Leap

I think that in our careers, and in being moms, we make hugely courageous decisions to move forward in either space, and each of those decisions impacts the other on so many levels. But I think the real courage isn't necessarily in the leap, but in all of the intentional efforts, in sharing your dreams out loud, and in working every single day toward being present and trying to grow a little bit more.

Of course, courage looks different in work than it does in parenting. But the experience feels so real right now: it takes a lot to be courageous every day, especially when being courageous means going against what society tells you is good or valuable or important.

I believe being courageous goes along with knowing what you want and why you wanted it in the first place, then taking those incremental steps every day to move in that direction. In general, that alignment with our values is good for our mental health. But I also think reaching and dreaming big is something we don't talk enough about in the mental health space—how it can be liberating, and how even struggling (and failing) in that space can help us grow and actually help others grow in ways we never imagined.

The Beam and the Brain

What does it take to be courageous right now? It may feel antithetical to say but ideally we are using self-compassion in facing our fears. I think that's often what was missing in gymnastics and in a lot of sports—this space of giving credit, giving self-compassion, when things were really hard.

Even for myself, the disappointment of not "going for" my skills on beam or bars lasted in ways that triggered really negative emotions: guilt, shame, embarrassment. Sometimes I'd tell myself, "I'm not disciplined enough," or "I'm just not brave enough." You get in your head, and it's actually really insightful that gymnasts like Simone Biles acknowledge that getting in your head, getting disconnected from your body and mind, and feeling massive self-doubt are all really important elements of the mind-body experience and what that looks like in terms of performance.

I think about performance a lot in the space of being a mom and having a career. There are many different areas where we don't give enough credit to the performance required of us. Performance can look like pivoting when all you can think of doing is yelling at your kid for not brushing their teeth after the 17th reminder that morning. It can look like responding to a crisis at work and not taking it out on your partner or family. It can look like coping with brain fog and being compassionate with yourself, setting up experimental designs to see if you can be more productive at different times of day, or learning to find the right kinds of support from friends who let you feel like yourself rather than the idea of who you might be.

Courage in the Everyday

Being courageous in everyday life looks like being experimental, being willing to learn new things—which is so important in the workspace, particularly with rapidly evolving tools like AI. It means getting comfortable with whole new systems while still trying to optimize your work and often not having enough damn time for important tasks.

Being courageous takes a lot of energy. I think what that means for us is making sure we know what behaviors are involved that actually nourish, refresh, and regain energy. And that's not just about sleep. I don't know about you, but I can't predictably know that I'm going to feel rested even after a decently long night of sleep. It just doesn't work that way. Unfortunately, our bodies are not machines and energy in energy out doesn’t always “compute”.

So I think it’s important to ask ourselves; What are my other tools for nourishing myself? And what are the tools that I use to cope that might actually detract from the energy I have? Is it possibly, maybe, constantly checking my phone for new emails or dopamine hits in any kind of way? Yeah, probably.

So what can I do to add to my coping repertoire that doesn't feel like a punishment or an act of harsh, judgmental discipline, but actually something that usually makes me feel better after I do it? Something sustainable, like flossing—an annoying but ultimately beneficial habit that actually tends to feel better when completed regularly.

What Nourishes Courage?

I especially love supporting people through both the big, leap-of-faith courageous moments and the everyday courage it takes to keep asking for what you want, to keep advocating for what you need, to keep trying to feel those feelings that are so important in motherhood.

Like the grief of your baby not really being a baby anymore. Or the moments where it's just boring, and all you want is to have your own time at the end of the day. The courage it takes to sit in those difficult feelings and still ask yourself: What is it that I want from this moment?

This kind of courage—the space between the leaps—often goes unrecognized. We celebrate the person who quits their job to start a business or takes a dramatic promotion. But we don't celebrate the parent who, for the twentieth time that week, chooses to respond with patience instead of frustration. We don't recognize the daily courage of showing up for yourself in small ways when it would be easier not to.

The Missing Ingredient: Self-Compassion

I've noticed in my coaching that high-achieving women often excel at discipline but struggle with self-compassion. We're taught that being hard on ourselves is the path to excellence. But my experience, both personally and professionally, suggests otherwise.

When I reflect on my gymnastics days, I think about how much shame I carried for the skills I didn't attempt, rather than pride for what I did accomplish. I see similar patterns in many of my clients—the invisible (and often secret) standard they hold themselves to that no achievement can quite satisfy.

What if we approached courage not as an endpoint but as a practice? What if we gave ourselves the same gentle encouragement we would offer a child learning something new? "It's okay to be scared. It's okay to take it slowly. It's okay to rest when you need to."

This approach isn't just kinder—it's actually more effective. Research in performance psychology shows that self-compassion doesn't undermine achievement; it supports it by creating psychological safety for taking risks and learning from mistakes.

Living Aligned with Your Values

Courage isn't about conquering fear—it's about feeling fear and still acting in alignment with your values. This kind of bravery is good for our mental health, our relationships, and yes, even our careers.

When we're connected to what matters most to us, decisions become clearer (though not necessarily easier). We can more readily distinguish between external pressures and internal guidance. We can make choices that might look risky from the outside but feel aligned from within.

I see this in my clients when they don’t apologize for needing flexibility AND compensation, when they set boundaries around their availability, when they pivot their careers to better match their evolved sense of purpose. These choices require tremendous courage—not just in the moment of decision, but in the daily recommitment to a path that might not have external validation. Or that first conversation when they finally say, “I’m not happy doing this work anymore.”

And I see it in my own journey too, in the decision to build a practice supporting other women through these transitions, in the vulnerability of sharing my own struggles and insights, in the daily balancing of my professional ambitions with my desire to be present with my children.

What Does Your Courage Practice Look Like?

I'd love to hear what everyday courage looks like for you. Where are you being called to show up with quiet, persistent bravery? What tools have you found that nourish your energy and courage—and which ones have you discovered subtly deplete it?

If you're navigating a transition that requires both the big leap and the daily courage to keep going, I'm here to support you. Whether you're considering a career pivot, adjusting to a new phase of parenthood, or simply trying to align your daily choices more closely with your values, coaching can help you clarify what matters most and develop practical strategies for moving forward with intention.

Remember, courage isn't just about the moments that everyone sees and celebrates. It's about all the invisible moments too—the ones where you choose alignment over ease, growth over comfort, authenticity over approval. Those moments matter. They're building something important, one small act of courage at a time.