In this moment, I honor each who came before me. I honor their sacrifices, their pain, their wounding, and their strength and resilience. Each woman creating a path, cleared for the next to walk on.
To honor my life, my gifts, my worth, and my freedom is to honor each sacrifice that was offered before me. How often we forget that for the gift of freedom, a price was paid so that I could sit in solitude, receiving whispers on the wind.
To gaze into the fire of transformation is to remember those who were burned and scorched before me. For each woman who gave up her freedom for lack of choice or voice, for each one who grasped onto freedom with fire in their eyes, sacrificing a life for a moment in history, I honor you.
I honor you by letting words flow freely from my pen, a gift of art and ancient wisdom not allowed to all. I honor you by drawing back my shoulders and allowing my voice to ring true.
I honor you by carving magic out of mayhem, a sculpture of well-worn wisdom and experience. I honor you by staring fear in the eye, a fiery gaze blistering the words “I will not bow” onto the skin of tyrants and thieves. Sovereignty, that is how I honor you. The Queen of Swords, her power far greater than forged metal.
I honor you by stacking bricks of self-worth, dignity, and respect on the architecture of my life. This is my design: for you, for me, for she.
Selfish, reckless, nothing of value, words brought to my ears to show me wounds that needed my own medicine. Ancient wounds wrapped in the salve that only she knows, strong medicine. My worth is non-negotiable. This is how I honor you.
Battle scars, lovely and bold. As I sit here, I admire them in honor of you, crowned on my own throne.
For more self-study, The Urban Howl recommends The Desire Map: A Guide to Creating Goals with Soul.
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