Why Abby Isn't Weak

 

Abby is written proof that courage and panic can occupy the same space at the same time.

After watching the History Channel's miniseries Sons of Liberty I was drawn to the idea of writing an American Revolutionary War story.

Because of this I had to create some new characters to fit into that world.

One of the most challenging characters I've ever written is Abigail.

Not because she lacks courage.  But because her courage doesn't look the way people expect it to.

When you first meet Abby you might not see a heroine.  She's frightened, uncertain, and carrying secrets she desperately hopes no one will discover.  She's far from the boss babe type who will go charging into battle carrying a musket and yelling at the men to follow her.  She's neither fearless nor bold.

At least not yet.

Long before our story begins Abby has learned to measure her worth through the opinions of others.  She worries about being judged, rejected, or being exposed.

The tragedy is that many people carry similar wounds.

Not necessarily because of the circumstances of their birth, but because they spend years believing they are somehow responsible for things that were never their fault.  Those beliefs can become prisons.

For Abby, that prison takes many forms.  Fear, guilt, silence, and self-blame.

When people are hurting, they do not always respond in ways that make sense from the outside.  Sometimes they lash out, withdraw, or convince themselves they deserve the pain.

As a writer, I wanted to explore what happens when a person survives by turning every hardship inward.  Abby becomes her own harshest critic.  (Don't we all, though?)  She assumes the worst about herself long before anyone else has the chance.

Yet that is precisely why I find her so compelling.

Beneath the fear is an incredible resilience.  Each day she gets up and keeps going.  She goes on despite believing she may not be strong enough.  She faces a world that has given her more than enough reasons to hide.

Many stories celebrate dramatic acts of bravery.  Those moments certainly have their place.  But I'm equally interested in quieter forms of courage.

The courage to keep living.  The kind that trusts someone after being hurt.  The type that believes you deserve kindness and challenges the beliefs you've carried for years.

Abby's journey isn't about becoming fearless.  It's about learning that fear does not have to make her choices for her.

It is about discovering that the things she believes make her unworthy may not define her at all.

Most of all, it is about learning that a person's worth is not determined by the circumstances of their birth, the mistakes of others, or the lies they tell themselves in their darkest moments.

I think that's why Abby matters to me and makes her so relatable to others.