That’s What She Said
Somewhere along the way, we stopped believing women.
Bought into the narrative that they were not to be trusted, too emotional, clad in useful bodies but otherwise superfluous. Our mothers way way back knew their power. The power of women to listen, support, lean in, link arms and rise up.
The men in response reshaping, literally rewriting the truths of religion and society to dilute our potential. Men that rule the world insist on dismissing our truth while shaming us for our silence. Men causing so much harm, but not all men. Those same men now blowing up the world to avoid saying I’m sorry I hurt you.
The invitation to stay hidden, protected but alone is loud. But we’ve got something that is ours alone.
We have the truth of our storied time on this rock.
Stories of the ways we feel we belong and the ways we’ve decided we don’t. Our bodies remember the truth of our mothers, that together we cannot be stopped. Instagram creating connection in the way candy nourishes our cells.
We see the pics from their latest trip, the ways their business is thriving, their family laughing on a road trip, the perfectly balanced meal.
But do we really know?
How lonely she was watching her marriage crumble behind that beautiful front door.
How afraid she was, afraid she might not have the strength to “battle cancer”, that she would leave her kids behind.
How worried she was for her tender boy in this world of harm.
How mortified she was to find herself on Tinder in her FORTIES talking to men who were only boys, begging for their respect.
How surprised she was to find herself again after supposing she was lost.
How lonely and invisible she feels carrying the quiet labor of her home.
The fears and shame of her changing body as it moves through time.
The ways she is expanding and dreaming and stretching beyond the expectations set for her.
The ways she feels afraid and the ways she dare not dream.
What she wishes she could say out loud.
What she might reach for if she knew no-one would laugh.
Story, the kind that makes your eyes well up with knowing, invites you to ache with your neighbors, evokes laughter that makes you pee a little, calls us back.
If you are feeling alone, missing the sisters you know must be out there, or simply need a night away from the dishes and the carpool, come join us.
A room full of authentic women awaits you.
