To Her

If I could, I would tell that girl of her unrivaled beauty. It wasn’t because of her face. Although her smile had a tendency to drift up until her eyes flashed with gold. Nor was it her body, though she was soft and strong with arms that knew exactly how close to hold. The attraction drew from her fierce heart. The one that continued to love and love with an unwavering faith. It was her ability to find light, even in the darkest of spirits. Her openness to move towards forgiveness, rather than carry the weight of resentment. It was how she could hold her head higher if it meant providing shelter for another.

I would tell her just how worthy she really is. To not let any man have rights over her mind or body. Especially if it is made to stand above, to belittle her soul. She needs to stand tall, not sway and crumble into someone’s mold. Who she is, is hers to define. I would want her to hold her curves close; to know that her value does not lie in another. To wait, for a man who looks at her so deeply, it could have been a thousand lives between blinks. Not any man, though. Save it for the one who makes her fingertips tingle and deep belly dance. The man who is unafraid to understand her heart, layer by layer, so he knows which parts need water when it begins to wilt. Hold out for the one who knows how to lift her up when the world becomes an anchor; who sees her to the bones, sticky parts and all.

I would tell her how important it is to lean into sisterhood. That while she may not understand now, she will quickly discover the sacredness of feminine force. These women should not be feared, they should be sought. They will guide. They will heal. They will show new ways to shine. Stay open and observe the magic.

I would tell her not to make herself smaller. She should be a force. Her sensitivity, and knowing how to express that, is a gift. Not a weakness. While she may feel misunderstood, she is not too much. Taking up less space, a life on standby, is no way to exist. She should know her strength, how fearless she can truly be. That her broken hearts will make her stronger, while breaking hearts will make her softer. Either way, she will endure. She should allow gentleness for mistakes; it is a skill to hone, as lessons are only made lessons through one way. Trusting her feet is essential; following footsteps will not satisfy her soul. And despite what she’s heard, no path is certain. Life will float or throw her, but handling each with grace will teach humility. Above all else: listen, listen, listen. To others, to oneself, to the resonant cries of the world. It will reveal their truth; it will reveal her own. It will change her course, she should let it.