this morning i sat out on a dock on this pathetic little river and wrote furiously for almost 2 hours. furiously wrote nothing. snippets here. vague memories there. and far off dreams that seem to forever sit on the horizon. forever out of my reach.
as my feet dangled just above the water i realized that the five year old me who played in these exact waters would slap the shit out of the me sitting here now. and who could blame her. i have all but completely destroyed that beautiful little girl.
i have believed lies. i have told them.
i have damaged and punished my body for simply existing.
i have forgotten the little girl who laughed so hard soda came out her nose.
the little girl dancing in the rain and jumping in puddles.
i have forgotten the little girl splashing with reckless abandon in this very river.
as I see her dancing in the water, completely unaware and unconcerned with the 20 years that are to come, i am overwhelmed with things to tell her. mostly things i hope for her to remember through all the shit that’s about to go down. “you are loved and you are lovely. you are enjoyed. you are beautiful. you are fun and you are funny. your laughter is contagious and your smile lights up rooms. you don’t have to prove anything. you are enough. you are valued and worthy and precious. regardless of what ANYONE tells you these next 20 or so years please, please, please don’t buy in. please don’t believe that you are ugly and worthless and not worth fighting for. i am on your side. i am for you. not even the future version of you, which is technically me, but the you right now. all five years of you. i am fighting for you. you are important. your story, this story that you are telling and living and, let’s just be honest, owning…this story matters. and so i am fighting for it. i am FOR you. don’t give up, little one. please, don’t give up. i need you. and your story. after all, it is my story too.”
at the edge of the river these words wouldn’t come. when it was just me sitting there i came up empty. unable to tell myself any truth at all. as i opened the door to this place, life and laughter covered me like a thick blanket. this circle of women – i need them. just like i need five year old me. i need them to remind me of things i can’t seem to remember or believe on my own. i need them to ask me questions like “what are things you would tell your daughter?” or “what would your greatest encourager say to you?” and when i come up short on answers they send me a text from across the room. i need them to sit out on a patio and ask me what i am passionate about. and why. and encourage me in those things. literally, these women and their words PUT COURAGE IN ME.
so. more than the miles that separate us. the different life stages we find ourselves in. or the different roles we are called to play – at the end of the day we have our words. we have our dreams. we have our passions. and we have each other. grateful to stand side by side with these women.
they help me not forget.
and when i do. they remember for me.