Woman, I see you.

Woman, I see you.

Averting my gaze as we pass in the grocery aisle, in case I’ll catch a glimpse of your “no time for concealer today” eyes and unwashed hair.

I wish you had accepted my smile, as you would have seen the same eye circles. Compared signature mum buns, dark roots for days. We really should have high-fived, mama. We made it out of the house.

Woman, I see you.

At your kitchen sink, breathing deeply with eyes closed, as if trying to lose yourself in the darkness behind your lids. They just won’t stop fighting and tugging at your clothes.

All day… So. Touched. Out.

I know, I know… it makes you want to fucking scream!

Woman, I see you.

White knuckled and losing your mind. WHY DOES HE KEEP DOING THAT?! IS IT JUST TO PISS ME OFF?!

My girl, I get it. I’ll ask you the same question I asked myself. Do YOU treat yourself with the loving kindness you seek from others? He is a mirror. He shows you what you must learn and sometimes it is ugly as hell.

Woman, I see you.

Wishing you had been taught how to set better boundaries. Wondering why you say yes, when you mean no. Feeling your heart heavy with remorse, regret… shame.

We did the best we knew how, my darling. Self-love isĀ ours to own. Let’s choose it.

Woman, I see you.

Sighing with disgust as you look at yourself in the mirror. Imagining how much happier you would be with a smaller waist, or perkier boobs.

It’s bullshit, you know. We keep striving towards some “ideal”, but only when we choose to love ourselves unconditionally, only when we stand tall in our exquisitely flawed complexity, only when we can honour our pain as equally as our joy, will we accept that the skin and bones that envelope our soul does not define us.

It does NOT define you.

Woman, I see you.

Hustling like a motherfucker. Studying and working your ass off to “BE” someone in this life.

You are such a damn gift. Why do you strive to be anyone but yourself? (You’ll have to remind me of this one when I forget. Which I will.)

Tired mama and baby

Woman, I see you.

Pushing it all down, down, down… deeper and deeper.

You hope that by not feeling your body will stay quiet. But beauty, she just doesn’t work that way. She will just yell at you louder and LOUDER until you can’t ignore her another moment. She will find a way to make you listen.

To make you honour her, care for her, love her.

She will scream in desperation through any means. Your health, your relationships, your work. Don’t make it too late.

Woman, I see you.

Let me hold you.

Let me hold you like I have and continue to be held.

Let yourself lean into the possibility that you, just maybe… are enough.

Let yourself be taken by curiosity, step up in radical responsibility, indulge in sensuality. Dig deep for the courage to pave your own way, find your unique voice and lead our daughters to reclamation.

I see you, woman, because I am you.

The ache is heavy, but together we will settle into the discomfort. Let it move through us and bring us back in to flow. Just like the butterfly emerges, so will we.

We’ve got this, woman.

I see you.

Kate x

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