A Note To The Broken Hearted Woman
Hey, beautiful. I know that you may not feel beautiful right now. Sh*t, I’ve been there. Maybe you feel exhausted, freakin’ angry, or utterly alone. Maybe you’re hurting like hell or confused. Maybe your heart has been freshly broken and you’re crying on the bathroom floor. I hear you. I hear you in the whispers, in the shadows, in the streams of cool winter sunlight that spill in through my windowsill. And I know—life can be tough and terrible, shocking, and really scary sometimes. But in the dips and hollows of it all, in the thundering darkness of trauma and pain, in all the awful, toxic things we can be told—I hate that we can come to think we are worth nothing. That our value has vanished. That our power, our ability to love, create, and enjoy has been taken by the hands of those who could never even see us in the first place. And yet, we yearn to be seen. To be witnessed in all of our glittery, gritty, messy, sweet glory. So, can I tell you something? I see you—for more than you wounds. I see beyond the edges of your brokenness, past the valleys of the limits you’ve come to believe. I know that your wounds are a part of you, mine are a part of me, too—in a way, they spark spirit to create wonder and all of the fresh, emerald growth that happens from the ache. But it is not easy to feel broken. And I want to hold space for you as wise, wild, and wonderful women did for me. I see that, yes, you are hurting. I see the ache, and honor it so fiercely. I see all of that. And more. Because even in your tears, I can still taste your wisdom—the brilliance that emanates out of you when you’re not even trying. I see your softness that is so powerful. I see your beauty. I see your strength and resilience. I see your passion. I see the delicious depths to which you dive and shimmy and feel. I see all the creativity that pours out of you. Your brokenness is but one beat in an entire melody—you are so much more. And I want to reflect wholeness back to you. Because in spite of it all, you are still whole. You are still fantastic and so brave. You are setting yourself free. Let the layers peel back—let something fresh gush forth from the pain. You have so much to offer, simply by being who you are. Please don’t hide. Take up space, Whenever you’re ready—that’s when it’s time. I want you to know that you are seen. ‘Cause I know it can feel hopeless sometimes, empty and impossible. This life can feel cruel. But I see that flicker of juicy life in your eyes. I see a smile that speaks of curiosity and fire. I see you. And I know, it’s hard to be a woman in this world. It’s hard to have the guts to rise in the face of it all. It’s hard to speak up, to be soft, to be real, to be ourselves. It’s hard to do that, when we feel like the world shuts us down. Yet, we are called to do it anyway. You hear the call reverberating deep in your bones, don’t you? ‘Cause you are like the earth. You crack, you open, you light up in brilliant color and lose all of your leaves, you get quiet with the snow, then you warm up, you flower and bloom, you get wonderfully hot and spicy—and do it all over again. You are like the earth. That grounded. That vast. That sensual. You are able to hold so much—the fire and possibility, the icy shock of loss, the muddy rivers of grief, the bitter canyons of pain, the fields of delicious love, and the sweet, dewy fragrance of hope. I see you. I see the strength and vulnerability of your big, open heart. I see the unwavering wonder of your spirit. I want you to know that you matter, even when you don’t think you do. Your wounds may shape you, yes—but I promise they don’t have to define you. Because, Beneath the pain, Even in the wreckage, Is satin treasure. A draped and heavenly paradise. And, I want you to know that you matter, even when you don’t think you do.
With love and service xx