Ode to the women in my life

 

 

Ode to the women everybody hates; she is too loud, too honest, too raw, too willing to expose her wounds and the wounds of others and demand that you answer why

…..and a moment of silence for those who are forced to put up with her.

Ode to the women who know that “too” means – more, extra, …bonus.

 

 

Ode to the women who got left behind in the panic for younger, better, thinner, dumber, controllable, ignorant and weak.

Ode to the woman who refuses to be swayed by beauty magazines, and ads for endless youth but rather defines her beauty by her heart, her mind and her abilities.

Raise a glass to the women who take a seed and grows a garden, a business, a human or an idea.     

 

Ode to the women who were too much for the world to handle so men used the parts of them they could break off; and left the parts that were too big for them on the sides of their plate, like bits of fat and bone.

 

 

Here’s to the women who support each other, encourage each other, give a hand and smile to the other women they connect with. Here’s to the women who understand our strength lies in our ability to connect.

 

 

Salute to the women who were left to raise their children alone and handle the endless daily needs and nightly fears of not having enough and not being enough.

A moment for the women whose compassion outweighs the abilities of her heart and so carries both life and death in every beat.

 

 

Ode to the women who were broken young and were never able to put their doll back together again.

A moment for the women who were told they needed protection because they feared who she could become and a round of applause for those who refused to believe them.

Ode to the women who found the love and support not available to them in the world, in each other.

Ode to the women who believe that love is expressed by food and the fat people who benefit from this belief system.

A moment of silence for broken dreams, broken promises and lies that still lay shivering in the pool of tears cried in the middle of the night. Morning comes… morning always comes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A moment of silence for the women who are raped by religion.

Here’s to the women who claim their space, on the bus, at the gym, on the track, at the boardroom table, in the trade schools

…. in the world.

 

To the women who doesn’t fear the fire or the storm but rather chooses to harness one and become the other.

A round of applause for the women who use their challenges as their own personal sharpening tool.

Here is to the women who built resilience from the shards of societies view of their value.

Here’s to the sheer majesty of the deep breath of a determined woman.

 

 

 

Silence for all the women whose bodies were used as a weapon of war and the children they were forced to bear as a result of their sin in being born female.

Ode to the women who understand that together we can create an equal force as powerful as the creation of a human life with all that same potential for good, for justice, for peace.

Ode to the millions of girls, whose brilliance and contribution to the world was extinguished by poverty, lack of education and lack of medical care.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A moment for the women who were murdered by politicians who thought their perceived morality trumped her right to proper medical care …and the orphans she left behind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A slow clap for  the women who claw their way from the pits of hell to the mountains they believe they deserve to possess, hats off and deep respect.

Ode to the women who want it all, and why the hell not…

Ode to the little girls whose innocence was bought and sold again and again only to discarded in the end and labeled, “addict”, “whore”, “prostitute”, by the very men who profited from her lack of choice.

Cheers to the women who have learned the wisdom of a broken heart.

 

Here’s to the forgotten women, the mothers in the background, the quiet ones, the wise ones whose presence is never felt but in whose absence the sun stops shining.

 

Heres to the women who define their own beauty, letting their imperfections be the signature with which they sign the masterpiece they believe themselves to be.

 

A moment of mourning for every women who believed, only to find out that there was no Santa, again and again until her heart was no longer capable of producing magic.

Ode to the women who loved with every fiber of their being. Who surrounded those around them with that love. Who healed those who came to them, with that love. Whose meals, acts of kindness and courage defined love. Whose forgiveness and strength defined love. Ode to the women who understood the power of love.

Here’s to the women who chose to build a wall of concrete blocks to protect themselves from the pain.

Here’s to the women who chose to build stairs with those same blocks.

Ode to those who believed that death was better then being broken again and again. To the memory of those we couldn’t convince, couldn’t reach, couldn’t save.

Here’s to the housewife, who was somehow roped onto the idea that while everyone else was out pursuing their dreams, that her dream was to be married to a house and the daily grind of toilets and meals, laundry and endless demands.  She will tell you it was worth it when she looks at her kids and we will forget to say ‘thank you’ unless Hallmark reminds us.

A moment of silence for those who believed their babies were better off dead then to be born into a world where they would be hurt in the same unspeakable ways their mothers had been hurt.

Ode to the women who fights a demon every 26 days with ice, chocolate and Advil.

Ode to those women who have joined hands, forgiving past wrongs, ignoring slights and petty differences to gain strength in partnerships with each other to build the support network they were taught only came from princes and movie characters.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For the mothers who buried their children, a moment of silence in which the only sound is her echoing heartbeat.

 

 

Ode to the women who understand that bitch can be a super power if used properly.

 

Ode to the young girls and the war their fragile and beautiful sense of self fights with every comment, magazine ad, grandmotherly tisk-tisk, weight scale, other girls comments and the boys who use them and then cast them aside looking for their next score, their next proof of their own illusion of manhood.

 

Ode to every young girl who has decided not to take it anymore. Who has found her fight. Who has stood in the face of opposition and crossed the floor into the arms of those cheering for her success.

 

Ode to the men, who partner with, support, encourage and raise these strong young girls.

Ode to the women who persevere in spite of the endless white noise

of less pay, less respect and the ever present self-doubt.

 

 

Raise a glass to a woman’s ability to bring peace into a situation, comfort at a time of need, support in their quiet, competent ever-present way.

Hats off to the women who nurture their children and contribute to society; they work and build up and support and wipe up and sing and keep putting one tired foot in front of the other.

 

 

 

A moment of silence for the women who cry in their beds at night, wondering how they will pay for heat and food while Dad bribes his kids with trips to Disneyland but by morning they still have a hug and a cuddle and suitcase packed, that ever present teeth-gritted fake smile firmly in place as they hand the most prized piece of their heart to the very person who once shattered it.

Here’s to women who can run corporations but still need a hug and to be told they are pretty, at least once and awhile.

A moment for the women who made meals and businesses and clothes and dreams while dragging around their broken parts in a bloody sack believing that some day, when they had time they would fix that too.

 

Ode to the women who gave up comfort, security and safety because their mission screamed louder than their fears.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Here’s to women and the glass ceilings they will break (but are still expected to clean up the mess).

 

Here’s to women who can consistently wear their clothes on backwards, lose their phone, push doors marked pull, park creatively and giggle at funerals.

 

Here’s to the women who believe that a size 2 is a medical diagnosis.

 

Ode to that womanly core of steel, wrapped in velvet and perfume, all tied up with a big red cord of the fiercely feminine and a small white cord of the vulnerability.

 

Ode to the women whose apron doubles as a super hero cape when required.

 

To the wild ones that refused to be tamed.

To the strong ones who stood in the gap for those who needed support.

 

 

To the intelligent ones who chose to be alone rather then dumb down to be accepted

To the gifted ones who forced the world to acknowledge their gifts.

 

 

 

To the physical ones who pushed their way into their sport and refused to take no for an answer.

To the women that scare you.

To the women that inspire you to try harder, go faster, dig deeper.

To the women who won’t let you lie in the safety of your own bullshit.

 

To the women who refuse to be quiet.

 

To the annoying, relentless dripping of women who just won’t stop until it is done and done right.

 

To the goddess and the temptress.

 

To you.

 

My encourager, my cheerleader, my consoler and my treasured friend.

 

Thank you for not stifling your power or quelling your magic. God knows, you have had many reasons to do so but you chose to stand in defiance of it all.

 

Thank you for listening to your own inner voice and refusing to allow others to quiet your gut. You help me to trust mine by your example.

 

You are a compassionate, creative, compelling, life giving, wise, and beautiful force. You are divine.

 

You are the goddess. You are the warrior queen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Thank you for being in my world. Every step I am able to take is because of the caliber of women I have around me. Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for yelling at me.  Thank you for facing me to face the truth even when it is painful.  Thank you for crying with me.  Thank you for laughing with me.  Thank you for accepting me and celebrating m

 

I love you more than you will ever know.