Here’s To The Girls Who Are A Lot To Handle


Here’s to the girls who are a lot to handle.

Who are loud and unapologetic. Who laugh without worrying if someone is taking a picture and they have a double chin and laugh lines. Who speak their minds without giving a second thought about the reaction of whoever hears. Who say what they want and never ask for permission if it feels right. Who speak from the heart and know that’s a good thing.

Here’s to the girls who are a bit too much.

Who wear their hearts on their sleeves and do not apologize for bleeding on your shirt when you cross paths. Who say what they mean and mean what they say. Who do not hide behind “playing games” and “just talking” and “no labels.” Who ask for what they need even if it’s difficult to swallow.

Here’s to the girls who are “not like other girls.”

Who reject that headline because, what the fuck does it even mean. Who don’t worry about their femininity being this or that, here nor there, enough or not enough. Who don’t worry about being like anyone else just because of a vagina and simply do them. Who are who they are and nothing else and no label can ever express that.

Here’s to the girls who can’t be tamed. 

Who are absolutely unconcerned with fitting into a box just because a boyfriend or a girlfriend or a partner or their parents or society has told them it’s where they belong. Who choose to run, and if someone runs along with them it’s a blessing but not a requirement. Who live their lives with freedom and fire and do not worry about bothering anyone with the heat.

Here’s to the the girls who defy expectations. 

Who do not wait for a ring on their finger or a relationship status on Facebook because they know it’s the least interesting thing about them. Who do what they want with their bodies and pay no mind to words like “slut” or “whore” or “ladylike” because they know those words hold no weight. Who decide to be quieter and selective and refuse to give value to words like “prude” or “uptight” or “boring” because they know how little words from uninformed places matter. Who are unequivocally themselves.

Here’s to the girls who choose to be whoever they want to be. 

Who cheers with beer or champagne or apple juice or water but cheers loudly and enthusiastically because they are excited about the possibility of simply being themselves. Who march and skip and toss their hair whether it’s styled or not even brushed because they know, they KNOW that they are fabulous. That they are amazing. That they are worthy. That they are strong.

Here’s to the girls who refuse to listen to the hate.

Who see it, narrow their eyes at it, and then shake, shake, shake it off because they know it doesn’t matter. Who only give value to constructive criticism but never give anything to hateful, antagonistic actions. Who refuse to pay attention to people who are only interested in the idea of bringing a women, a strong woman, to the ground. Who, when hearing the people saying stop, say “No!” and keep on dancing.

Here’s to the girls who are wild and free.

Who have lived through whatever, battled whatever, faced whatever, and choose to power on. Who look at the chains that could hold them down, would hold others down, and choose to run regardless. Who see the lists of things they’re supposed to be and decide that the only person who can decide to give them a “supposed to” is them. Who reject weights and in turn accept wings. Who see melancholy, and choose magic. Who see sadness, and choose something else.

Here’s to the girls who are a lot to handle. 

Who go home alone because no one else can deal with not holding, or having to hold, your hand. Who ask for what they need and do not make excuses because a why isn’t part of a request. Who are who they are because they love who they are and they refuse to settle for anyone who cannot love them as completely.

Here’s to the girls who are a lot to handle. 

You aren’t a lot to handle. You’re magnificent.
You aren’t a lot to handle. You’re just fine.
You aren’t a lot to handle. You’re just YOU.

And I see you.
And I am with you.
And I am you.

And I love you. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

About the author

Kendra Syrdal


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