We all arrived here through different roads, different highways
and different dirt paths. Some of us are bruised. Some of us are spotless. How
we got here doesn’t matter—only how we’re tied together.
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We are the women who spend our sweatpants-wearing Sunday
afternoons alone. The women who treat ourselves to fancy Valentine’s Day
dinners. The women who buy ourselves carnations after making mistakes.
We are the women who’ve decided to bravelyput love on the back burner. We know we’ll one day be
mothers of beautiful children who’ll share the same clusters of freckles on
their noses. We know there’ll come a time when we’ll look into someone’s eyes
and see a reflection of our dreams.
We never for a second doubt that we deserve all this or that
it’ll happen. But we know that now is not that time, and we accept it with
grace and patience.
Couples in black and white romantic movies make us smile without
wincing. We sing along to cheesy ballads on radios knowing that one day, one of
them will be sung for us. We go to sleep every night happy no one’s taken our
minds hostage. We aren’t waiting. We aren’t still, or frozen with hope. We are
in a constant state of motion, dedicating everyday to ourselves and the goals
our souls ache for.
Solitude can get deafening sometimes, but self-sufficiency is a
trait even warriors have trouble mastering. You are your own commander,
fighting frostbite, fidgeting in your mittens. Never apologize for the fires
Carry our flag with you and know you’ll never be alone.
Beside you stands an army of women marching to the same
heartbeat in bedrooms that are oceans and countries away, carrying the same
promises to themselves throughout their days. Who never allow anyone to
tell them what they should have, or who they should need.
And never let anyone tell them when love should, or shouldn’t