Hear me: the memories we carry in our bodies aren’t all ours. We collect the pain, the trauma, and the freedom of the women before us. It pools in us alongside our own life experiences and then we either overflow or we break open the dam and let it all move through us. I feel it lately, my own grandma’s life showing up in mine. The way she grabbed my hands and told me how proud she was of me, what a good mother I was, days before she died. The sacred way we filled her room and walked her to the threshold. The words that spilled out of her mouth when she was halfway here and halfway there. I didn’t know then that I carried her story in my body too, that I was living some of her own heartbreaks, that maybe she knew I would need to be bolstered by that one thing: that I was good, that I had done well.
And right now, years later, she is still bolstering me but in new ways. It feels like she is taking my hands again, looking me right in the eyes, and telling me that she knows. She lived it too. She had to rise up out of the pain too. She had to conjure badassery out of her tired soul too. And we’ll make it, we’ll survive it, we’ll heal ourselves all over again.
My sister said this to me tonight and I wrote it down so I could carve it into my life. The bloodline of women who passed their own experiences down into my body, the women who circle me now, the women I am raising. It means something right now. It anchors me somewhere deeper than myself. It pulls me forward so I can push against the dam until it breaks.
I hear @glennondoyle on repeat these days: we can do hard things. We can. We have to. We do. If you don’t know yet how powerful women are, how sacred your connection is to the women who have had a part in raising the good in you, how fucking brilliant it is to be a part of something that reveals the unbreaking of The Divine in the world - rise up in it. Explore the possibility that, even in the mess and the mistakes, you have a bloodline of women behind and in front of you who will never let you go. Let this be the moment that your hands are in my hands and you hear it: you are good.