I don’t always post art on the internets. Because I’m not as brave as other artists. So, when I do, it’s because I’m being for real.
This one first:
Once it was someone’s birthday. And he had remembered my birthday and he teased me for not remembering his, so I told him I’d take him out for lunch, just like he took me out for mine.
But then I decided to pack a lunch instead (cleared it with him first), and I packed my favorite basket with salad and fixings and nice napkins and individual raspberry lemonades and he saw it all and said, “I think you’re the girliest woman I know.”
I turned to him, in my heels and skirt and said, “Yeah, but I’m also probably one of the toughest.”
He considered, then nodded in a agreement.
Ladiez. All of ya’lls out there rocking the cute clothes and the fab hair and the makeup that makes your eyes sparkle–ya’ll lookin’ good.
But, most of the time I don’t feel girlie and fluffy and light and smooth.
I feel like a warrior.
I feel like every day I wake up fighting and I fight long and hard all day until I collapse into bed, exhausted, tell my guardian angel to handle everythang while I sleep, and then wake up and do it again. Like, for instance: yesterday. Like, for instance: today. Like, for instance: tomorrow, undoubtedly.
This here is a shout-out to all the women fighting hard against all of the lies we’re handed, all of the pressure we feel. Here’s to the women juggling many things, caring for many people, pushing themselves everyday to be better women, holier people, generous members of our communities.
Here’s to the women who are told they’re not “enough,” not skinny enough, not smart enough, not capable enough…and yet, they fight and push anyway because, honey, you’ve got what it takes.
Here’s to the women who are told that they’re “too much,” too much fire, too much intelligence, too many opinions, too much drive. My sisters, we don’t have too much of you in the world…we have too little. Bring more.
Here’s to the women whose pursuit of holiness looks “wrong” to other people who will whisper that women shouldn’t read in church/ don’t know what they’re doing/ can’t teach a thang or two about Jesus. Talk to the Theresa’s–any one will do– St. Therese of Lisieux, St. Teresa of Avila, St. Teresa Benedicta (or St. Joan of Arc!). They can set you straight.
As St. Joan of Arc would say, “I am not afraid. I was born to do this.”
You were born to do this. Do those things: the ones you were born to do. Do the ones that require bold trust and deep strides onto the water and love deeper than you know you have and a flying fall into the arms of God. Fight for those things. Fight hard, all day, as I know you do.
Good work, ladies.
Now, go collapse into bed.
And wake up and do it again tomorrow.