Every Friday we unite for five minutes to write on one word. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second-thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on weak.
Each day, I strap on my fighting gloves and I head out, prepared for battle.
Ready to take on those that tell me I can't, because I do it anyway.
Ready to prove them wrong and therefore I have to be right.
Ready to show them my strength, even when they tell me I am not made for this.
Ready to show them I make my own place, even when they tell me I shouldn't be there because that's not where I belong.
Ready to show them that I will keep marching, I will keep my own beat, not the one you put in my head.
Ready to be heard, so I scream really loud.
Ready to stand up for me, because your words of hate won't be accepted, not here.
I wear my armor, all of the gear to protect me, and battle on.
And the gear looks different each time.
It comes in the form of running shoes and race bibs.
It comes in the form of swim suits and a woman close to 40 learning how to swim.
It comes in the form of business suits and spread sheets.
Even if it means I have to battle myself.
Because what I fight most is the weakness that lives in me.
The weakness that was nurtured because you were afraid to raise strength.
the go to person because she never says no
the one that gives in
the fake smile
the one that holds it all inside
until I fight back, but only to those I love and trust the most.
And that's when I do the most damage.
So what happens when the warrior is tired of war?
What happens when she is sick of all the fighting in her life?
What happens when she wants to retire her gloves?
What happens when she wants to just feel safe in the life she has created?
What happens when she no longer wants to destroy, only build?
What happens when she now needs calm?
What happens when she wants her gear to come in the form of love?
Will she be seen as weak, or giving up?
What message is she sending to their faces, their worried eyes?
Are they more anxious of the fight, or will they remember the cuts she took to the chest and how she battled on?
Is strength defined as screaming and stomping, I am strong!
or is the real definition seen through the quiet of poise and grace?
Is it seen through being an anchor for them and for you?
Is it seen in trusting in you and the life you created?
Is it seen as conquering weakness by walking through fear?
Is it seen as realizing, you define you.
You define you.