Today is Equipped Woman’s 5th birthday.
I love, and sometimes loathe, this space like a true best friend.
She has listened to my pain and turned it into power. She has given me room to breathe, however deeply or heavy I need to. She is a friend born out of adversity, who is always willing to let me speak; never telling me what to say, what not to say, or how to say something in the best possible way. Just loving me and letting me be me, at whatever stage of life I happen to be in.
I wish I could say that I started this blog because I simply loved to write, and maybe that is true to some degree, but when I was silenced and oppressed, holding on to some sliver of hope of something greater to believe in and something greater to be a part of – I simply started here – by dreaming it out loud in a journal or on a keyboard.
This lady, the space called Equipped Woman, continues to hold my hand through late nights and early mornings of purging and processing both the exuberant celebration, and the awful wretchedness, of life.
Today feels like a birthday toast to a kind woman who has never closed her ears when I spoke or walked away mid-sentence, even though I have retreated in fear many times. A girlfriend who delights in whatever I publish, for she understands the labors of vulnerability more than she cares to criticize. She gives me permission to curse and could care less about who or how many are here. Of course, she will tell me if I want to know, but in her adorable playfulness she seems to jeer, “Let’s just not know.” Because she wants me to remain free.
Happy Birthday, Equipped Woman. You are a treasure that I hold dear when I feel plundered from this life. Simply by making a space for me, you bring my voice to life. Cheers, my friend. Cheers to you! ( * clink! * clink!* )
your dearest friend,