I am not strong because I have an iron will and Protestant work ethic.
I am not strong because I can slap a game face on and pull myself up by my bootstraps.
I am not strong because “I wish a mother f*cker would.”
I am strong because one day, I decided to love myself exactly as I am.
I am strong because I will stay in the fire of feelings, when all I can do is cry.
I am strong because I am unafraid to say, “I don’t know.”
I am strong because I wrestle my demons, and love the questions without answers.
I am strong because some days, I fear everything, but I still show up.
I am strong because I often stand on shaky legs with a tear-stained face, willing to be exposed.
We are not strong because we have all of our sh*t together.
We are strong because vulnerability is our superpower.
We are strong because we became our own best friend.
Always remember her, the strong one, who lives within your own skin.
Remember her when you are spiraling down a one-way street of panic.
When it feels impossible to breathe.
Take a deep inhale and exhale back into her trustworthy bones—
Full of stories, scars, mystery, and magic.
Remember her when you’re on your knees, holding the shape of your broken heart.
Remember her, because she is safe.
Remember her when you fall from center axis, pulled into orbits foreign to your soul.
She is still right there, patiently waiting for your return.
She is constant. She will not abandon you.
The prodigal daughter is always welcomed home.
Remember the strong one, because she loves without condition.
She trusts your innate goodness.
She knows the beat of your relentless heart.
Remember her when you feel fat, unlovable, and not good enough.
When the world measures worth on shallow, immortal standards.
Go play outside with her. Talk to the trees. Do cartwheels in the grass and get your feet dirty.
Remember her childlike eyes; her joy in catching raindrops on her tongue.
Remember her when you question everything.
When you are lost in regret and feel like you’ve made a series of unforgivable decisions.
We are not strong because we are always right.
We are strong because we admit when we could’ve done better.
We are not strong because we bulldog our way through adversity.
We are strong because we know when to ask for help.
We are strong because we turn toward suffering—
that cannot be “fixed.”
Stay and feel it all.
She will hold your hand and tell you, “It’s okay to feel afraid, I’ve been there too.”
Remember her strength when you are naked and want to hide your vulnerabilities.
She will tell you to be brave—real intimacy requires courage.
Remember her when you step into the ring with a body full of terror.
Desperately wanting to hide, but everyone is watching.
Remember her, as she whispers, “They will love you and they will hate you.”
But true strength does not move you the way fear moves you.
Remember her, because she is the heroine of your story.
She calls you by name, places a tender hand on your cheek, and says, “You are beautiful.”
You are strong when you share the shameful skeletons you were sure would destroy you.
You’e a diamond who shines through the cracks when the sun comes back out.
The dark nights are simply flames for compassion.
We are strong because we cannot stay quiet.
Our mouths shape the vowels of fierce love and our hands were crafted to heal a hurting world.
We are not strong because we fit into boxes of boring perfection.
We are strong because we house an indescribable fire, one that’s ready to light up the world.
We are a force to be reckoned with.