“The night before my 40th birthday in July earlier this year, I set my alarm. I knew precisely what song I wanted to ease me into my extraordinary year of 40.
I had forgotten that the song starts with a few measures of a brassy and slightly drunken sounding version of Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture, but since I’ve spent the last 39 years conquering insecurity, fear, and doubt, a triumphant war song seemed more than appropriate….”
“This is a doozy”….
Episode #5 is part 1 of our two-part series called, “How to Talk About Controversial Issues”, and in this episode we explore Black Lives Matter and Terrorism…
We say we want to know why, but do we ask the right questions?
those steep hills
to where you sat
on the bench
in the valley…
“Thank you to all of the men who have impacted my life: my boyfriends, my best friends, my teachers and my mentors. Thank you to the fellas who broke my heart, which in so many ways made me stronger. Thank you for the life lessons, the tears, the smiles, the growth, and the encouragement…”
“Your hands like well worn leather weather storms of tears and rain streaked with creases of worry, time and circumstance….”
“Here it’s just us. You sitting on the sofa, I nestled in close beside your warm, tired body. Together we sit. There is no need for conversation in these moments, only the need to get just a little bit closer, to snuggle in a tiny bit more…”
My Mom has always been there and even though we have had the typical mother/daughter tension, I am realizing at this moment that it was usually during the times when I didn’t love myself and found it hard to understand how someone could love me unconditionally. I still will not understand the depth of her love until I have one of my own but I know that I am one of the lucky ones…”
“…In the middle of our conversation Martha Burgess walked in to pick up some books she ordered, and the rest is history. Our friendship began that day. She looked me up and down and said, Yeah you are one of us…It will be 10 years this coming November since that day…”
“As I have gotten older, I have come to appreciate not only my mother’s will and grit and sense of humor, but the fact that she is always there at the end of the battle. It doesn’t matter if that battle is between us when I was an angsty teenager or when the battle was losing someone we loved. She is there…”
“My mom will do anything for her children. If you are feeling down, she will break out in song and dance in the middle of a grocery store just to make you laugh. I think of her, and I smile knowing that she is the perfect balance of business and motherhood. She works hard for what she has, and I feel proud to call her mine…”
It’s so hard to find the words to tell you how grateful I am to have you as my mom. How does one tie up with a neat verbal bow so much love?…
When I need you.
I need you
To be strong and willing.
Scared of nothing.
That’s another thing…”
At the time, I thought all of these situations meant that I was failing and falling and making the wrong decisions but now I see all of these “roads not taken” as the ones that led me here to a life that I am totally in love with (and falling more in love with everyday). I had to feel what DIDN’T work for me to find out what makes me soar.
“Sometimes I wonder how we are still married when so much of our time is spent apart.
I never wanted to marry someone in the military….Until one day at work – I saw you. I refilled your coffee, you smiled, and I was yours. “
Paris, Mon Amour.
I had a different Monday Menagerie planned for today, but after the news of the Paris attacks on Friday, I couldn’t think about anything else. So this little compilation is dedicated to the City of Light.
Our Monday Menagerie series was created so that we could curate stories from around the web that inspire, motivate, ignite, educate and entertain. I was so inspired by Tara Tona’s Instagram post a few days ago that I decided to make this week’s Monday Menagerie the “kind issue.” These stories are meant to be examples of how we can be more kind, where kindness and love are flowing right now and some stories so full of joy and beauty that you start to doubt that the “badness” even exists. I want to live each day as if things are getting better, not worse. Who’s with me? 10 REASONS WHY INVESTING IN WOMEN AND GIRLS IS SO VITAL Let’s be kind to women, ya’ll. I mean seriously, why is it so difficult? If we could be a bit kinder to our women I think we would see a radical shift in the way people treat each other. It’s just my opinion but why don’t we give …
10 August, 2015. Late morning, inspiration. The month of August here at Project:Women is dedicated to “Travels, Adventures, and Time for Self”. This story wasn’t the one I was planning to write. Not at all… but sometimes you just have to go with the flow of the mysterious muse and let it happen. This morning I read a beautiful post that Jamie B. wrote in honor of the wedding anniversary of my husband and I, and it inspired me so deeply that I sat down to write. Those are the moments we dream of, as writers. For the words to just flow out, naturally and quickly. Ha, come to think of it, it’s rather like birthing a baby. You desire for it to be quick and pain-free, but often it isn’t. Often it is a labor of love (and of course childbirth is literally that!) But no matter how easily or not-so-easily those words may come out, it is yet another kind of challenge to share them. To share the words of the heart is to …
Enjoy some Jon and Malala love, inspirational art, an awesome online mag, education about how Obama is cleaning up the place, a story of 3 women who had the balls to scam ISIS and a video like you have never seen before in our MONDAY MENAGERIE!
In The Philosophical Baby, philosopher and psychologist Alison Gopnik says this: “It’s not so much that we care for children because we love them, as that we love them because we care for them.” I first felt the truth of this statement when my daughter was around two months old. It was a golden October afternoon. My daughter was fussing. For her, it was a clear sign that she needed to nap. Badly. I cradled her. I shushed her. I rocked her. I hummed to her—all in an effort to help her understand that she was tired. I even told her, “Shhh… You’re tired.” Within a few minutes, her eyes fluttered and then closed. I watched her peaceful face for a few moments. God, I love this child, I thought. But a shadow fell on that moment—because I knew that it hadn’t always been that way. The cliché is that a mother’s love is born the moment a child is laid into her arms. For me, there was certainly a euphoria that delivery was over …
They say the first year of marriage is the hardest … even the first few months have proven to be challenging. Often, we write about the peaks of our relationship milestones, but in the in-between — “in the meantime” — there are valleys you dip into, plateaus you endure and straight up sheer cliffs you fall off of from time to time. And these are the times when you have to face things, walk the plank, stare at your own reflection … and deal.
Preface: This small story is my attempt to convey, in words, the emotions that occur in those first days after having a baby. Yet there are no words that exist to fully elucidate what those feelings are truly like… From the moment my daughter met the outside world, I was a changed human being. That’s what happens when you give birth for the first time.. you change in a way that is total, immediate, and undeniably profound. There are absolutely no words to describe the feeling of looking at, holding, your very first child for the very first time. It is all of life in a single moment. It is love, wrapped up in fear, wrapped up in love. It is transcendent. Those first few days were so intense. The breastfeeding, the love and the worry. The physical discomfort. It’s a mixture of the physical alterations of your own body and the mental saturation of processing so many new emotions, all while having this entirely new human being to care for. Your body …
Mother. I think the defining characteristic that makes someone a mother isn’t just having birthed a child. It is a bond, a love, something so deep it is incomprehensible. It is a caring of and devotion to another human being, it is a giving of oneself to another. It is love. Mama. Maybe you are one, or want to be one. Maybe you aren’t one and never want to be. But, we all have one. Sometimes a mother is adopted, sometimes a mother is also a father, sometimes a father is a mother. We each have a unique bond with our mother that is wholly our own. It is a complex, often difficult to understand relationship that lasts our whole lives, even when our mother isn’t present. Because she is and will always be present within us. I don’t think it’s possible to define a mother by any one word, except perhaps the word love. Because that is the intangible form that a mother represents. Being love. Giving love. In all its complicated ways. I want …