friendship

“..the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person- having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all right out together; certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and then with the breath of kindness blow the rest away.” 

-from the meaning of marriage

I’ve got these friends. I can call them on my very worst and lowest of days and they see right through all the dramatization and right to the heart. They can gently say, “yea, you’re wrong here” or “sounds like this triggered _____. You’re gonna be ok.”

I can’t say what a relief it is to be known. While living transparently is vulnerable, it’s incredibly freeing at the same time. Sounds a bit like nonsense, but it’s true. I live it. I can attest to the beauty of being deeply loved in all my crazy and all my flaws.

I know there are women out there who have very few, if any, female friends. I guess my heart hasn’t suffered the wounds from mean girls- the kind of wounds that shape a deep distrust and dislike for the fair sex. I see women as interesting, kind, thoughtful, generous, and deeply compassionate humans. My experiences with women has been nurturing and kind- a spaciousness for understanding one another, flaws and all. A mutual realization and freedom in not having life perfectly put together.

Navigating life is a treacherous task and if I was alone in my boat, I would have stopped pulling for shore years ago. But I have angels who have taken the helm, kept the rudder from splitting, filled the pails with water and thrown it overboard. Sometimes these angels are well known to my heart with years of investment in my life, but occasionally they pass through on a weekend, leaving behind a lasting impression. The way they looked into my eyes, or held my hand, or trusted me with their secret.

To these women who fight to survive, I salute you.
To the women who choose to cheer for women instead of bite or slander or belittle, I thank you.
To women who have dared to love difficult people and not given up or given in, I see you.
To the women who choose to rebel against the ideal of perfection but choose honesty and transparency and freedom, I congratulate you.
To the women who are wounded and wandering, you’re not alone.

You’re not alone.