FREEDOM FROM STRENGTH

Artwork created by my daughter 

Once upon a time...

there was a little girl who was smart and beautiful and silly and erratic and lazy and weak.

She was lots of things (as we all are) but....

the trait that defined her within her family was strength.

Again and again she was praised for being strong.

So that is what she came to understand about herself.

She was strong.

She could do it.

All of it.

For everyone.

The little girl learned to be what other people told her she was-

she got really good at wearing that mask.

The one where she was strong

and her other gifts were shadow traits.

Strong is the new pretty right?

My sweet girl many years ago....

As the little girl grew up the mask grew with her...sort of.

It was really tight and only stayed on if she held herself still.

No rocking of the boat and she could still fit that narrow label.
Strong.
No weakening of the resolve or expansion of the heart and she remained.
Strong.

Strong began to feel pretty constricting.

Like being wrapped in a vise by a large, lethal snake.

She couldn't breathe.

Like whole parts of her had to be suppressed or annihilated in order to fit.

Tools were sometimes necessary to remain in this place...

tools like denial and lots of words that end in -ism.

Workaholism.

Asceticism.

Egotism.

Perfectionism.

Escapism.

Formalism.

Maybe even alcoholism.

An early representation of my masks....

The formerly little girl began to wonder...

does everyone else have to live like this?

Or is it just me?

Am I the only one who has to stay within a mask?

What would happen if I stopped, took it off, stepped outside?

What would my label be then?

She thought about these things for a few years.

While she did, the mask started to fracture and slip.

People around her started to question her actions

-she wasn't always doing the things that were expected of the strong.

She was wearing the mask so she was the one assigned 

to do the heavy-lifting.

Be strong.

Fix us.

Keep it together.

She tried.

Really hard.

With all the strength she had, she tried hard to maintain that mask.

It was her defining characteristic after all...the one that mattered.

Without that mask, who would she be?

Poetry by Nayyirah Waheed.  Incredible Woman.

And then...the mask broke.

More like....It shattered.
Ok...it didn't break so much as she destroyed it.

One day she threw it against the wall in a fit of anguish and gut-wrenching rage.

Then stomped it into little bits on the floor and swept them away in the wind of her screams.

Turns out...strong can't contain everything.

The woman born that day slowly began to realize that while she is strong

it is not nearly a large enough label to contain all that she is.

She is all things-and none of the things.

Art by me available periodically via my Etsy Store.

That one-time girl has resolved to never be in jail again-

even a jail of soft comfort.

She is still able to hold the line 

frame the resolution

protect the weak

comfort the weary.

Those are definitely gifts of strength.

She is also able to

 dance like a dervish

laugh until she snorts

be almost inconsolable in heart-break

speak out in the face of injustice

refuse to meet expectations

and rest because she is tired.

That woman will not wear a mask so that others can be comfortable.

She has no interest in making anyone else wear them either.

That includes all areas of her life but especially within safe spaces.

Family.

Marriage.

Church.

Job.

Country.

She will not be jailed

and she is not a jailer.

All of her is showing up-all the time.

Ready or not.

Art by me available periodically via my Etsy Store.