I Almost Didn’t Go

What bravery looks like when you’re neurodivergent

Free entry. My husband’s birthday. The last day to preview Universal’s new Epic Universe theme park.

And still — I almost stayed home.

Why?

Because my brain was screaming “NOPE.”

What Anxiety Looks Like (Before the Fun)

If you live with a neurodivergent brain, you know what I mean:

• I was anxious the day before
• I woke up full-on spiraling
• I imagined everything going wrong — loud noises, long lines, getting lost, sensory overload, no exit strategy

No matter how exciting the experience was supposed to be, my nervous system was already at capacity.

What finally pushed me to go?

Not guilt. Not pressure.

Love.

It was my husband’s birthday.

And I remind my kids all the time:

“Bravery isn’t the absence of fear. It’s being afraid and doing the thing anyway.”

That day, I took my own advice.

This is the part of being brave that people don’t discuss. They imagine it’s loud — commanding, confident, and clearly visible. But for me, it was quiet. Quiet and shaky.

It looked like taking a deep breath, grabbing a water bottle, and forcing myself to walk out the door before I had time to talk myself out of it again.

No applause, no triumphant soundtrack. Just small steps forward through big internal noise.

What Helped Me Get Through It

We didn’t wing it. We planned around my brain.

Here’s what actually helped:

• Avoiding large groups. We observed foot traffic and chose calmer paths, even if they weren’t the shortest
• Mapping the route ahead of time. Knowing what came next gave my brain a sense of control
• Agreeing to leave when ready. No “let’s just do one more thing.” No pushing past the edge
• Having a role. I got to guide us through Super Mario World like a champion. Purpose grounds me
• Celebrating small joys. Yes, I got coins from question mark boxes. Yes, I was disproportionately proud

These things may sound simple. But to a brain on alert, they make all the difference.

The Truth About “Everyday” Bravery

It’s easy to downplay victories like this. After all, it’s “just a theme park,” right?

But for many of us — especially those living with anxiety, neurodivergence, or trauma — everyday moments require extraordinary effort.

We internalize this pressure to move through the world like everyone else, to “push through” fear quietly, or worse, to pretend it’s not there at all.

But that internal narrative doesn’t serve us.

Acknowledging the fear and still choosing to act? That is the bravery.

What I Noticed When I Wasn’t Panicking

Once I was able to regulate — once my body stopped scanning for exits — I saw things clearly:

• The landscaping? Stunning. Immersive. Not overstimulating.
• The themed “worlds”? Distinct, curious, and well-designed.
• Super Mario? Absolutely the best. I felt like a kid, without shame.

Fun is possible. It just needs support.

Why I’m Sharing This

If you’ve ever:

• Skipped something fun because the thought of going was too overwhelming
• Talked yourself out of an event because your body said “nope” before your brain could catch up
• Felt deep shame for letting fear win —

You’re not broken.

You’re not weak.

You’re a person with a highly tuned nervous system navigating a loud, unpredictable world.

And if you’ve ever gone anyway? Even for a little while?

That’s brave.

Final Thought

I didn’t go to prove anything.

I didn’t go because I was suddenly “fine.”

I went because I loved someone and I trusted myself enough to do it my way.

And it turned out to be a great day.

You don’t have to crush it.

You just have to show up —

With your fear, with your tools, and with your own kind of courage.

You’re doing better than you think.