Once upon a time, in a land called Orlando, I chatted up an Uber driver on my way to the airport. He asked me where I was I visiting from and I told him I had come down from Washington, D.C.
He assessed me in the rear-view mirror and without a moment’s pause said “Nah…you live in NOVA.” I immediately bristled. NOVA? Northern Virginia?! No way. If you are from the DMV, then you know what an insult this can be. How dare he imply that I was taking credit for living in the District without actually living there! I was a District girl through and through.
“No, I live in the District,” I said rather assertively.
“Oh yeah, which part?” he asked. This was obviously a test.
“Southwest,” I responded, feeling both confident in my use of DC’s quadrants and in my proof that I did live within the appropriated 68 square miles.
He looked at me again in the rearview mirror and this time, held his gaze for a little longer. “Girl, you must be brave or crazy.”
“Hmph,” I said, rather defiantly. “I’d like to think I’m a little bit of both.”
That story has stuck with me for years. Because I meant it…and here we are, years later, embracing them both. Embracing that I want to be little bit braver, and a little bit crazier, and embracing that they often go hand-in-hand.