I see you.
You’re sitting in your car. You’re angry. You’re hurt. You feel defeated. You feel unseen, unheard, unknown, and unappreciated. You’re asking the universe why they don’t get it, whoever they are. You’ve done all this work to be authentic, and real, and vulnerable, and strong, and fierce, and honest, and brave, and here you are. Sitting in your car. Sobbing.
I see you.
They’re so wrong about you. You know that. I know that. But, they don’t know that. They don’t know you’d give them the shirt off your back. They don’t know you’ve given much more. They don’t know your traumas, your victories, your sacrifices, your heartaches, or your triggers. They don’t know you.
And so they say things, or they do things, or they are things, that for you are so, so wrong. Things that cut, and tear, and gnaw, and erode, and burn, and blister. They are so wrong about you.
Let them be wrong about you. Let them underestimate you. Let them misunderstand, miscalculate, and mistake you for someone much weaker, much more afraid, much less willing to take the hits but keep on swinging.
Let them be wrong.
Because their wrongness doesn’t take away your righteousness.
Your righteousness is untouched, unfettered, and untethered by their wrongness.
Your righteousness stands up in the face of the wrong and it speaks with a firm voice and it never need raise a hand because the truth hits harder than a million fists.
Your righteousness carries you over the mountains of deceit and the valleys of despair.
Your righteousness sprouts wings that sail you onto higher grounds and higher consciousness.
Let them be wrong about you, my love. Let them be so terribly, deliciously wrong.
Because wrongness lies in wait for victims. But your righteousness declares that you will be a victim no more.
So, today, and all days, let them be wrong.
And lay yourself down into the warm embrace of peace within. The peace that comes only from knowing your worth. The peace that passes their misunderstanding.