And then, a few dives later, I agreed to go down at night.

No sun. No endless blue. Just darkness, a flashlight beam, the sound of my own breathing, and the realization that the ocean doesn’t become less alive when the lights go out. It becomes an entirely different world.

And somewhere down there, the fear disappeared. (Thanks to my instructor Ron for an initial, very necessary “don’t worry, I got you.”)

Tiff captured me just … floating. In my kitten-spaceship cat leggings, obviously, suspended in the blackness like this was a perfectly normal place to be.

There’s a version of me who looked into that dark water and thought Absolutely not.

And then there’s this version.

The one already in it.

I think we talk about courage as though it means becoming fearless. I’m starting to think it's something else: getting curious enough about what exists on the other side of fear that you go anyway.

And I got to learn that alongside a group of fearless scientists, explorers, and ocean women: the Seabirds.