I'm A Warrior in a Pink Dress.

I laugh a lot. I smile. I giggle. I stick out my tongue and wear rose-colored lipstick, gold glittery eyeshadow and get enthusiastically excited about pretty much everything.

I gasp at the tender beauty of budding wildflowers, squeal in exasperated delight at cooing babies and am brought to the beautiful brink of tears daily---they dance down my cheeks like a light Spring rain.

I smell honeyed lilacs and sing to trees from the pure beauty of it all. Kitten's whiskers give me goosebumps. My feelings get hurt easily. I find incredible wisdom in tiny dewdrops and sips of green tea as I bleed my heart dry in lines of poetry.

My heart is soft---I sashay down the street in salmon-colored skirts, smile shyly at strangers, and get sh*t done wearing my favorite fuchsia pink dress.

So what?

Don't mistake any of that for weakness.

Yet, I've so often been told my softness makes me weak, that my sensitivity a curse, that my flowery femininity is just way too much to bear. But that's not true at all.

I'm not weak---I'm a different kind of strong.

Look deeper.

Look directly into my smile, for it holds the grittiest secrets of my heart.

Look into my eyes---they hold storms and chaos and wild tornadoes and all the bruises I've ever gotten.

Yes, look into my eyes---I can see right through you.

I'm a f*cking warrior in a pink dress.

Don't underestimate me.

I smile so big and laugh so loud and dance so freely in the warm golden sunshine because I know pain so intimately. Because I know loss and grief and abuse and rejection and heartbreak. Because I know what it feels like to be utterly poisoned with self-hatred and paralyzed with fear, unable to face life.

My smile isn't a mask, it's very real. It speaks chapters, volumes---it's printed with stories so raw they'd rip your world apart and make your knees shake. It's embossed with climbing vines of truth, emblazoned with failure and sealed with a kiss of throat-burning moonshine. My smile is wise enough to know the harrowing depths of sorrow, the bitter taste of regret, the crushing undertow of disappointment. My smile---it holds the raw power of love.

I'm a warrior in a pink dress.

My sword is forged of gentle truths that bloom like lotus flowers in the sea. My bow and arrow is stitched of poetry. My super strength is love.

I'm a warrior in a pink dress.

I say please and thank you---not because I'm fake or ditzy or too nice---but because I've seen and lived a lot of horrible sh*t and I know how a singular drop of softness can feel like the most precious gift in the world.

I will never, ever apologize for my soft heart. I will never, ever stop caring too much and feeling too deeply. And I will never stop wearing my soft heart on my sleeve.

Because I know pain. I know fear. I've kissed them on the lips---I've made sweet, wild love to 'em both.  And I know how to fight, hell, I've fought in the mud and rain and sh*t for the beautiful life I have today---I've risked everything to stand in my truth.

Yes, I know so well how to fight, but I also know how to love. And that is the most powerful thing in the world.

I am born to be a force of love----and I'm done pretending that doesn't matter. I'm done pretending that isn't beautiful.

So before you look at me and think I'm just a bubblegum princess or a dumb blonde joke or that I need to toughen up or that I don't have a single care in the world---

Look deeper.

Look into my eyes.

They say it all. They hold the grittiest rubies of my heart. They hold the saltiest secrets of my tears. They give way to the treacherous seas of my wind-whipping intensity and soaking rain showers of my resilient warrior soul.

I'm not weak. I'm a different kind of strong---I'm strong because I'm gentle. I'm a badass because I feel so much. I'm a raw human being with a juicy, dripping heart, and I'm proud to be vulnerable.

I will never apologize for my soft heart. It's what makes me stunningly alive---it's the feathery whisper that guides me back to to truth, over and over again as I've broken, as I've shattered, as I've laid raw, split open, exposed to the rippling heartbeat of life.

So watch me break, watch me crumble, watch me fall apart.

Then watch me rise.

I'll do it all with a smile on my face and a silk skirt crashing over my hips like a strawberry sea.

I'm a warrior in a pink dress. I'm a phoenix, I'm a falcon, I'm a complete goddamn surprise.

My laughter holds the story of resilience. My smile sings with the poetry of the sun. My ruby lips spit fire and grow wildflowers in the same breath.

Watch me break.

And then see me rise---blooming madly in all the budding glory of Springtime.

Yes---

See me rise.

I will never apologize for my soft heart. 

 

 

 

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