Here’s to the women. The brave ones, who speak truth with conviction, with brilliance, with footnotes.
To the women who do not back down, who do not cower, who do not double-back when fragility tweets, blogs, comments, accuses, belittles.
To the women who have created something new. A book. A pilgrimage. A newsletter. An Instagram ministry. A conference. An article. A business. A podcast. A movement. Who created what did not exist before. Like God in whose image she was formed.
To the women who have claimed a space of their own. Who are not malleable. Who don’t adapt to some else’s demand for comfort. Who make the rules, define the norms, who don’t shape-shift for the ones who never had to earn the power they wield like a weapon.
To the women who aren’t sorry. Not for their bodies. Not for their stories. Not for their talents. Not for their strength. Not for their prayers. Not for their volume. Not for their rage.
To the women who realize that they were wrong. They were complicit. They were afraid. The ones who come to see that they’ve been lied to, manipulated, kept underfoot. Who are learning a new way. Who are showing up, making amends, tuning in, thinking again. Who are angry, who are alive.
To the ones who were told they should be softer, quieter, cuter, smaller, lighter, whiter, less. To the ones who grew instead.
Here’s to the women who, very early in the day, came to the tomb. Who saw it empty, who were very afraid. And who raised their voice anyway. Because of you, we know the truth. And it has set us free.
Here’s to the women.
