This is what you need to know about me: I’ll love the hell out of you. I’ll care for you. But I’ll be damned if you think I’m the woman that will sit silently next to you, that will do everything for you, pick up after you, be your mother. That’s not me.
I am a bed-hogging, heel-wearing, feisty kind of woman. I’m the kind of woman who will stand up to you when you’re not treating me right, that will challenge you, that will steal your half of the covers.
When the world pushes against me, I’ll push back. I’ll come fighting with fists and words and muscles and heart. That’s how I’ve been raised; that’s how I fought through when no one thought I could.
I will never be the kind of woman that sits down and shuts up. The kind of woman that waits back and lets her man always be the driver, the hand that leads her across the room, the voice that tells her what to do, who to be. That will never be me.
If you’re looking for a trophy wife, for someone to sit and smile complacently at your side, for someone to be your mother and keep you in line, I’m not her.
I’ll love you, but I won’t take your sh*t. I’ll be honest with you. I will stand up to you, and I will stand in spite of you. But I will also stand for you.
This is who I’ll be: When push comes to shove, I’ll be the woman fighting alongside you. The woman with hands that can heal. The woman who will love you with the sweetest tenderness, but will fight like hell against a world that tries to control her. I’ll be your mess of curly hair and fierce emotions. I’ll be your fighter. I’ll be your partner, your other half, your go-to, your equal. I’ll be the woman you love. And we’ll conquer this world together, side by side.