A Woman gets Older ---
As I grow older, a ‘birth day’ begins to mean less, and ‘every day’ begins to have more meaning. If I am not important enough to you to be respected, and honoured, and appreciated everyday, then your gift on my birthday just adds one more unneeded thing to a pile of clutter.
As I grow older, I see so clearly that there is little you can give me that I cannot give myself. In fact, I can give myself so much more, as each day I grow into loving who I am (even though that is not how you might see it), into honouring the goddess I am (by turning away from words and silences, actions and attitudes that are meant to pull me down), and into valuing the gifts I have to give to the world (and not wasting these on those who see no value in them).
As I grow older, I see so clearly that I am born everyday, and that, that one moment that took place years ago, was but the first step in a remarkable journey.
As I grow older, I see how I am enriched by those whose presence I am so grateful for, and who are not ashamed to show me how grateful they are that I am in their lives.
As I grow older I recognize sadly that some of the sacrifices I made (which no one asked of me, but all expected of me) have only been taken for granted, and have drained me of precious energy that I could have used to uplift myself instead.
As I grow older, the need to make small talk in order to make others feel comfortable, is replaced by the desire to communicate with those who value the same things I do, and who are happy to listen to me respectfully even when they might disagree with everything I have to say.
As I grow older, I choose to maintain my peace with those who believe I have nothing of value to say, and use those opportunities to communicate even louder with myself.
As I grow older, the need to place a distance between me and stabs and jabs at dishonouring me grows into a chasm that I choose not to cross. Thus, you hear longer silences from me, because I do not choose to share my inner spaces with you.
As I grow older, and wear those glasses that my failing eyesight needs, I shed my rose-coloured spectacles that kept me from seeing me for everything I am, and made you appear to be better, wiser, and more of everything than me.
As I grow older, relationships with labels mean less and less to me, and relationships with heart become the strength that emboldens me.
As I grow older, I see how little I have to give, and how very much of me I have to share.
As I grow older, the burden to be what you are comfortable with, is dropped, and the joy of being who I’m comfortable with, is lifted aloft.
As I grow older, looking for appreciation in your eyes seems less important than feeling great about that friend in the mirror.
As I grow older, what you think of me is far outweighed by what I think of me. And what I think of me is influenced minimally by what you think of me.
As I grow older, I apologize not at all for who I am, and what I stand for, but I am sorry when I mistakenly, or wilfully, hurt you by being less than who I am.
As I grow older, the need to rescue others, and save them from themselves, recedes into faintness, as I stand by in strong support while they unfold the journeys of their soul.
As I grow older, I recognize that I am not the centre of the universe, but that only I can be the centre of my world.
As I grow older, I can clearly see that every humiliating action, and every insulting word, towards me, arises from your resistance to my glory and might, and the threat that you feel when you face my power everyday.