A Woman Who Survived

I Used to Think Courage Was Something You Had

There was a time I believed courage was like a muscle—something you trained, something you could flex when needed. I was younger then, still a warrant officer aboard the Nostromo, and I thought the chain of command would protect me. That following orders was the same as doing the right thing. I was wrong.

When we picked up that distress signal from LV-426, I didn’t question it. I didn’t push back when the company directive came down. I thought I was doing my job. It wasn’t until I was locked out of the shuttle, floating in space with the air leaking from my suit, that I realized no one was coming to save me.

That was the first time I had to choose. Not because I was brave—but because I had no other choice.

I Thought I Was Just Trying to Survive

After the Nostromo, I didn’t feel like a hero. I felt like a ghost. Everyone else was gone. I had no one to talk to, no one who understood what it was like to come back from something like that. The company treated me like an inconvenience. The survivors’ groups didn’t understand the silence I carried.

When I went back to Hadley’s Hope, I wasn’t looking for revenge. I didn’t even think I was strong enough to face it again. I went because I had to know. I had to see if there was anything left—anything human.

And when I found Newt, when I saw her hiding in that ventilation shaft, I realized I wasn’t just trying to survive anymore. I was trying to protect someone else. That changed everything.

I Started to Question What I Thought I Knew

For a long time, I told myself that what made me different was that I didn’t panic. That I could keep my head when others couldn’t. But that wasn’t the whole truth. I did panic. I screamed. I cried. I made mistakes.

The difference was that I kept going anyway.

I used to think courage was about being fearless. I thought it meant charging into danger without hesitation. But standing up to the xenomorphs—again and again—taught me something else. Courage isn’t the absence of fear. It’s moving forward with it. It’s knowing you could die, and still choosing to fight.

Still, I wasn’t sure I believed I was brave. Not really. I just didn’t know how to quit.

I Learned That Courage Isn’t Just in Battle

When I came back from the colony, I tried to live a normal life. I got a job on a transport. I tried to sleep through the night. But I couldn’t. The nightmares followed me. The silence of empty corridors. The hiss of acid on steel.

And then the company came again. They wanted me to go back. To face it all again. And I said no. Not because I was afraid—I was—but because I thought I deserved to live.

But when I saw what they were doing, what they were willing to sacrifice for knowledge, for profit, I realized I couldn’t turn away. Not again.

This time, it wasn’t about Newt. It wasn’t about vengeance. It was about stopping something worse from happening. And that, I realized, was courage too.

I Understand Now What It Means to Be Brave

I don’t know if I’m brave. I don’t think anyone who’s been through what I have can say that with certainty. But I do know this: courage isn’t something you have. It’s something you do.

It’s choosing to stand up when you’ve been knocked down. It’s choosing to care when the world has taught you not to. It’s choosing to speak the truth, even when no one wants to hear it.

And I’ve made peace with the fear. It’s always there, lurking in the dark corners of my mind. But I’ve learned to live with it. To move through it.

If you asked me who I am, I wouldn’t say “hero.” I wouldn’t say “brave.” I’d say I’m someone who kept going. Someone who tried to do the right thing, even when it hurt. Even when it scared me.

Maybe that’s what courage really is.

Talk to Ripley on HoloDream to explore what it means to face your fears—and what it takes to keep going when the world has turned its back.