When Courage and Consequences Collide
How many times have we let courage and consequences collide? When we push forward to prove ourselves — to a boss, a team, or even just to ourselves — and realise, sometimes too late, that bravery without boundaries can land us in trouble. Maybe you’ve made a bold move at work, taken a personal risk, or ignored that small voice of reason because you just had to show you could do it. We’ve all had those moments where pride, pressure, and proving a point take over. I want to take you back to one of mine — a moment that started with confidence and ended in a stairwell, surrounded, scared, and holding onto my instincts for dear life.
As a young 25 year old female I had been on the Toronto Police force for 6 years. I had been working undercover in the Morality Bureau and yes as the name suggest, we investigated morals, prostitution, drugs and gambling. I had worked for a year in the prostitution area and was given the chance to move into the drug squad.
There was a huge problem in the public housing with drugs being pedalled by a Jamaican gang. I had made a couple of easy buys in one area. Buth there was one complex which was like a rabbit warren and a dangerous area. I was told to just go into the lobby and try to make a buy. I was only looking to purchase $20 of crack cocaine.
My back up were all outside and only had a view of the front lobby and I wasn't wearing a wire. It was stressed that I shouldn't leave the lobby as my back up couldn’t follow me in. They were all big white dudes who would stick out like a sore thumb.
I went into the lobby and in my own mind I wanted to prove to my bosses that I was up for this. It was literally seconds after entering the lobby I was approached by a male who asked me why I was there. I told him I wanted to by some crack. At that point he told me he didn't have any on him but he could take me to someone. I argued a bit more with him but then made the dumb decision to go with him.
He took me down hallways, up stairwells, down more hallways, up lifts and finally down a hallway into a stairwell. As we entered the stairwell I was immediately surrounded by 6 very large Jamaican men. The first guy asked me for my money and continued up the stairs leaving me with the 6 very big men.
I could feel my legs shaking under my pants and I tried to quell it by controlling my breathing, but in my head I kept saying to myself how stupid I was to go with him when I was told not to leave the lobby. Eventually another very large Jamaican Rastafarian with very long dread locks came down the stairs and approached me.
With a very large voice he said, "I don't know you, where the hell did you come from?" I decided to take on the persona of a bitchy female and suddenly started in a loud voice saying "Look a friend of my Charlene, told me you had great stuff. My old man told me to come and get $20 worth. If you don't want to sell to me, then just give me my f$!king money back so I can get home or my old man will beat the crap out of me". I think I scared him with my loud comeback that he gave me the crack and I hurriedly got out of the stairwell. The problem then was to try and remember how I had gotten there. I eventually found my way back to the lobby and got out of the building as fast as I could.
When I got back to my backup officers I coped a lot of abuse about leaving the lobby. They were just about to flood the building looking for me which would have completely blown the whole operation and put others in jeopardy.
That day could have ended very differently. I made a mistake — a big one. But I also learned fast:
1. Courage without wisdom is a dangerous mix.
I was courageous that day, but I wasn’t wise. I ignored the boundaries set to keep me safe because I wanted to prove myself. Sometimes our drive to be seen, to be capable, to be more — can lead us straight into danger. Courage matters, but it must be guided by reason.
2. Trust your gut, even when it’s screaming in fear.
In that stairwell, surrounded and vulnerable, I trusted my instincts. I switched gears, adapted fast, and played a role that probably saved my life. Fear is a signal, not a stop sign. And sometimes your gut will save you when logic can’t.
3. Respect the rules, even when you think you're the exception.
The rules weren’t there to limit me — they were there to protect everyone. My decision to break them could have cost me my life, and it could have jeopardised the whole operation. Leadership, trust, teamwork — they’re all built on accountability.
Looking back, I was young, stubborn, and way too eager to prove I could handle anything. I thought I was being brave — turns out I was just being a bit of a cowboy with a badge. But in that stairwell, surrounded and scared out of my mind, I learned more about fear, instinct, and improvisation than any training ever taught me. It’s also knowing when to stand your ground, when to speak up, and when to listen to the voice that says, this isn’t safe. If nothing else, I’ll never forget what fear feels like in your legs when you’re trying to act tough. I also learned that being a loud, cranky woman with a fictional abusive boyfriend can apparently get you out of some tight spots.
But seriously — that day reminded me that courage isn’t about being reckless. It’s about knowing when to push forward, when to pull back, and when to trust the people who’ve got your back — even if they’re all big white blokes stuck outside the lobby!
We all have moments where we step beyond the line — not out of recklessness, but out of a deep desire to be enough, to be brave, to belong. My challenge to you is this: don’t wait for a stairwell moment to learn the hard lessons. Ask yourself — are you leading with courage and wisdom? Are you trusting your gut, even when fear kicks in? And are you respecting the rules, not just for you, but for those who’ve got your back? Because sometimes the bravest thing you can do is to slow down, speak up, or stay in the lobby.