i have been a thousand different women

make peace
with all the women
you once were.

lay flowers
at their feet.

offer them incense
and honey
and forgiveness. 

honor them
and give them
your silence.

listen.

bless them
and let them be.

for they are the bones
of the temple
you sit in now.

for they are
the rivers
of wisdom
leading you toward
the sea.

// I have been a thousand different women 

Poem by Emory Hall

I couldn’t stand poetry in high school. I took English Lit because I had to—and with my mother’s sister being a legendary English teacher, I dared not fail her subject. In my teenage mind, it was all just gibberish. Why couldn’t they just say what they were saying? Metaphor was hard for my literal logic-based brain.

Now? Poetry lifts me. There’s a lingering warmth when seeing your own feelings reflected in someone else’s words. Recognition—that’s what it is. It’s a soul-speaks-to-soul recognition. The poet says, I see you. I hear you. I know you.

Isn’t that what we all want? For someone, whether in gibberish or straight up, to tell us: I see your value, and I honor it.

---

How many women have I been before?

I can believe that our past selves build pathways unto the versions of us we become. We know this logically, there is no way to get where we are going without being where we have been - a journey of 10,000 steps starts with one. And who we were then was needed. So forgive her. Forgive her lack of patience, and selfishness, and arrogance. Forgive her for succumbing to her fears. Forgive her insecurities and small mindedness. Forgive her bad choices in men, forgive her bad choices in friends. Forgive her rash decisions, forgive her righteous indignation.

She was doing the best she could with what she had…

…

I kinda like this woman I am, now.

She makes her friends laugh and tries to be kind. She loves a bubu and a pair of Bridget’s sandals for any occasion. She’s the type of Libra who doesn’t know what that even means. She’s obsessed with K-dramas. She plans her day around food and walking her dog. She knows another world is possible—if only we could figure out how to come together to build it. She is everyone’s favorite and requires seating if dragged to the club.

Apparently, she likes poetry too.

Dig Deeper

Create your container of contentment. Light your candle, pour some tea, and find your fluffiest blanket and favorite journal. Pick one of these questions:

1. Write a letter to one of the women you have been before. Forgive her, exalt her, tell her how proud you are of her, honor her, thank her.

2. Write a letter to your future self, the woman you are becoming. Thank her for persisting, for just knowing that you would get through.

👋🏾 tee tee afen, ta ta for now.