let's take just a second to celebrate you. ready?
Dear Fellow Women,
Take one hard look at yourself. I don't care if it's in the mirror or in your mind's eye. Now make an imaginary box and fill it with all the adjectives that you would use to describe yourself. Keep going. Need a bigger box? Go ahead. Put in the ones that make you cringe: insecure, overweight, rude. Put in the ones that make you feel important: educated, hardworking, independent. Put in the ones that make you feel happy, and sad, and everything in between. Throw in the physical descriptors. ALL. OF. THEM. Fat, skinny, old, wrinkly, tall, short, grey, brown, blonde, red, purple, green, bald, saggy, skinny, blotchy, big, small, average, toned, pregnant.
Get the idea?
Now burn that box.
That's right. Light a match, or a blowtorch. Use a friggin' dragon if you want. It's your imagination, after all. But burn the box and watch as it reduces to cinders.
Now take a deep, cleansing breath of fresh air, and blow those ashes into the stratosphere. Watch them scatter through the air until they are utterly gone.
What's left is you. No adjectives. Just you. Let's celebrate that.
There has never been, and there never will be, another you. You are the only one. In the history of this world. You are it. For as much as anyone else might have in common with you, nobody has ever been you. I'm not going to tell you that you are perfect just the way you are. I'm not going to tell you that you're awesome. In fact, I'm not going to give you any adjectives. That's not the point of this letter. Because you are not an adjective, and that is the point of this letter.
See, adjectives only describe what we are in comparison to someone or something else. Adjectives lend themselves heavily to averages, values, statistics. And, if we can, I want to get away from that for just one more minute.
So right now, standing in your imagination, freshly devoid of all external descriptors, I just want you to take yourself in. Just feel you. Nobody else can fill your space. Someone could try, but nobody can do it exactly like you. You are exactly what you are. Your thoughts, fingerprints, blood, skin, ambitions, fears, and brain are your own. It doesn't matter what someone else might think of any of those things. They are a collection of those things, too. And for that, we are all equal. Have compassion for those who cling to those labels with all of their heart. Have compassion on yourself if you hesitated to burn that box.
Now take a deep breath again. And this time, breathe in some love for yourself. Breathe in some kindness. Fill that space that only has you in it with a fierce, unconditional loyalty to you. Believe me, you deserve this. Breathe out those doubts. Fill another box with them. Burn that box, too. And blow it away. Then fill you with love.
Once you are full, that love will radiate out and help light other boxes on fire.
We can have adjectives later. But today, let's just let it be you because, today is your day.
Every day is your day.
You can do this.
You are this.
Happy International Women's Day.