In my past life I regretted not being as soft, gentle and sensititive as I saw other girls. Past relationships revealed that gentle and "easier" women were more desired. I didn't see myself as ethereal as I wanted, my delicacy only showed behind miles of walls built in diamond. I envied the dantiness of other women, I wished that I could be the same. Less loud about the things I found passion in, easier to love as I saw it. But the truth is that I was. To the right people in my life I could be healing waters, calming like floating atop a river, light like the release of 1,000 balloons. My act of soothing wouldn't be a cozy wool sweater or grandmas hug on a dreary day. It would be hot, like a cackling fire in a dim house in a blizzard or pouring rain. It would be mine. I had to, as a woman, find the gorgeousness in my own God designed light. Coming up on 29, the self acceptance is the most beautiful thing that's happened in my lifetime. With the right formula of God's will and self love it's so easy to see the differences that make us amazing.
Sometimes I am soft, sometimes I am a gentle ethereal beauty. But most times I am broken and healed. Heavy like a fresh rain drenching your clothes, yet freeing like the sun coming out from behind a cloud after. A glued together gold plated vase. I can be hard, unmovable and light as a rock. I am strong and sometimes it is not and will not be easy. Some of us are watermelon fruit drinks in a beautiful glass, tangy like lemons dipped in sugar, and some of us are straight whiskey on the rocks with no flair, hot on the way down and soothing in the pits of our womb. Learning to see the beauty in being such a plethora of flavors. All strong enough to do the job.
For all of the women like me who find humor in the darkness. Who choose thorn covered roses instead of daisies. Who bask under the moon only when the sky is at its darkest, and who love the light of the sun but only when it burns into your skin the warmest. For you who know what it means to truly be alive, but also have no problem sitting next to death and sorrow, to talk about breathing, about freedom...about what it means to know the light at the end of a tunnel. I pray that your light is never dimmed, that your soul is always on fire. That at the end of every day your hair is messy, your feet are dirty and your heart, though protected in your own fortress, is still fully functional and as strong as you are.
To those who are stars, exploding helium and hydrogen burning years ahead of your time, don't waste time envying the gentle beauty of a firefly, or a brightly lit city. Don't waste time trying to figure out why lamps burn as bright as they do and may be easier to operate. Just burn... Just light the sky as you do.
No light is the same. ALL light has tremendous purpose.
