I am constantly in awe of the power of women
When a sister suffers, the whole community of women
Care for this sister
Like she is their own
Hold her as she cries and wipes her tears away
All of the wombs of many women ache for this sister
They see themselves in her eyes
If I didn’t have the sisters in my life,
The many sisters from every desert, every mountain, my sisters from the east and my sisters from the west.
How easily I would crumble.
Thank you for being my legs
When I could not walk any further.
I sit in the pain.
I don’t make crowns of plastic flowers.
I don’t cover up the void in my chest and quell the dull ache in my womb.
I sit in it.
I learned long ago that there is no rushing healing.
And that denying yourself the walks through dark halls and the sleepless nights, or even the times when you don’t get out of bed – I know that denying that is more destructive than faking a smile.
So I sit in my pain.
I burn in my pain.
I make a home in my hell.
Because diamonds are only made after a process of pressure.
And phoenixes only exist if there are ashes.
Stop denying yourself the mastery of your pain.
Live it. Own it. And pack it away in your chest.
To remind you of your resilience;