The women who came before

In the moments of doubt, of frustration, of not feeling like I am enough or that I haven’t done enough, in the moments where I am wondering if I am doing the right thing, if I have made the right decision if I am truly doing what I want to do, I think of you, the women who came before, whose shoulders I stand on. My grandmothers, both who left homes in towns that they knew for homes, and in one case, a country, that they did not know. My great-grandmothers who said goodbye to their children who were leaving the country of their birth not knowing if they would ever see them again yet letting them follow their own paths. I think of the women that came before and feel them in my bones, in my blood, in my DNA, in the beating of my imperfect heart. Their strength, their love, their frailty. I am here because you loved and gave birth to the women and men that allowed me to be born. Because of you, I exist in this mortal coil, this manifestion of humanity. Because of you, the women that came before, I live in a time and in a country where I can raise my voice and I can vote and I can work and I can wear whatever I want. Because of you, the women who came before, I can rent my own apartment, have my own bank account, drive my own car, live my own life. Because you were born, I was born. I feel the mantle of your love, of your life, around my shoulders, keeping me warm, reminding me of my worth. Reminding me that I am enough. Especially in the moments of frustration, of doubt, of indecision. Because you were born, I was born. Because you lived, I live. Because you were you, I am me. Perfectly imperfect exactly as I am. #internationalwomansday

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