Being brave

Being told I was brave became a joke to me and a close friend in the past few months. People kept telling me I was 'so brave' when really i was doing nothing, just plodding along, as if there were a choice.
But the other night I did something I regard as being brave. I went to see Wit, a play about cancer. Now Christina Kennedy had seen kickstart's production of it at the National Arts Festival in Grahamstown about two months ago and raved. She said it was uplifting.

This is what the Tonight! reported: Christina Kennedy opened her review in festival daily newspaper, Cue, with, "Talk about ending the festival with a theatrical bang… this is theatre of the highest order that engages both the head and the heart, no question about it.

"(Clare) Mortimer's performance will leave you reeling, Wit will leave you stunned."

She adored it so much that when I bumped into her at a music concert last night, she mentioned she had seen it for the second time this week.
That is when I also saw, at the Wits Theatre, but must say found it harrowing. And lines burrowed into me: "I am not in pain because I have cancer; I am in pain because I am being treated for cancer" and "I always used to be so sure about things" (or something like that); "now I am less so". I know that feeling exactly. Suddenly everything is less certain.
I came back and said "I was brave seeing that". Does not feel such a big deal now but it did then.