I wrote this on November 20th 2011 as a guest post for (the now-closed) Roots of She by Jenn Gibson.

Every last syllable remains as true now as it was then...so I haven't changed a single one.

Oh, how I love the timeless endurance of truth.

You too?

Yes.

I see you

I see you.

I see your compassion and am in awe of your capacity.

I see your light, even as you seek the solace of shadow.

I see your calloused hands that are soft and yielding as you massage your aging mother’s feet.

I see the scars on your heart from the times it broke and am fiercely proud that you can still love. Fiercely.

I see your struggle and adore your ability to find ease.

I see the choices you are making and how they honour your vision.

I see where you are going. You may want to consider bringing your oxygen mask.

I see your desire to be held for who you are. Just as you are.

I see what wants to be released from your life. It starts with “No, but thanks for asking”.

I see your contradictions. They’re emerging as a rich tapestry.

I see your eyes well up when the bagpipes play.

I see your reluctance. I see you as a reluctant leader. Oh yes.

I see how your presence lights the room. Mega-wattly.

I see you heal. And how you do it.

I see your belief in your intentions.

I see you dance in the space between your vulnerability and your truth.

I see your curves and marvel at your lusciousness.

I see what is busting to get out of your chest and into the world. It’s been caged for far too long.

I see your timid bodaciousness.

I see your tap root of respect.

I see the doubt. I see the fear. I see the fearful doubt and the doubtful fear. And yet…

I see your deep desire to do more. For everyone.

I see the joy in your impeccability. And I see the beauty in your hot mess.

I see your epic struggle with impatience. (You are gaining ground.)

I see you holding doors open for everyone, no matter how closed the doors can feel to you.

I see the undulations IN and the unfolding OF your story. And it quenches my thirst.

I see you.

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