this is how it is.
you get picked last for the team
left out of the plans
excluded from the circle.
the rejection letter arrives in the mail
she picks the other girl
the door you were about to walk through
gets slammed hard in your face
and you are left outside in the cold
stunned and alone.
sometimes this is how it is.
you will stand in the harsh glare of the spotlight
looking out into a sea of faces and know
this performance will not be greeted by applause
you will want more than you get
and loved less than you deserve.
at the end of the day you will sit wearily
having done your best
your very best
and realize that nobody has noticed
or worse, everybody noticed all the wrong things.
and you will know what they are saying about you
because you have heard it before
from those voices that live in the very back corner of your brain.
the ones that say
that you are too much
or not enough
or far more difficult
not near as easy as expected
bigger or smaller or louder or more silent than what
wanted-needed-expected you to be
and exiled from your desire
and chastised for your wanting
and ridiculed for your being
your shoulders droop
and you feel vulnerably visible
or maybe as a ghostly apparition,
ignored by those whose witness you most crave
naked before impossible judgment
this is when demons that stalk
roar out of shadows
perch on your right shoulder
breath fire into your ear
flamed whispers searing a brand into
the sacred flesh covering your collarbone
not good enough
waste of space-
and you will hear them loud and clear
every fiber of every muscle absorbing
every last word
drowning out quiet voices that speak other, highly suspect, truths
– you are loved, you are beautiful, you are enough-
because those words make bile rise in throat
skepticism entrenched deep fighting against
flowery words that yearn for a home
that cannot be found.
but right now?
this is not the giving up time
no matter how many times you’ve given up before
that would be a predictable end to a predictable story
and you are anything but a predictable woman
with a predictable life
this time the searing breath wakes you up
this time the numbing is excluded from the party
and your head lifts
and your shoulders square
and you breathe deep into the exact
of your goddess power.
you do not apologize
or sulk into shadows
or back off the stage in shame.
you do not accept their rejection
conform to their definition
you do not dim your colors
or fade into oblivion
you will start your own team
widen your circle
cast your net
change all the plans
rip up that letter filled with no
and paint the word
acceptance in rainbow colors across your skin
under the glow of the welcoming moon.
you will do what you damn well please
refuse to define yourself as
part of any half-conceived partnership
decline the invitation to stay
when your soul only whispers, go.
and choose to exchange vows with
your own wild divinity instead
you will take steps to get what you want
give yourself every last ounce of love you have always deserved
discovering along the way the multitudes within you
so that alone is never lonely
you will buy enough paint
to create your own marquee
emblazoned with every last bit of your glory
you will step back into the spotlight
and magnify the beat of your heart
until it fills the room
and the sound of your own electric heart
becomes a standing ovation loud enough to power
twenty more women toward their destiny.
and you will take notice
off all the right things
and all things they took pleasure in labeling wrong
until your too-much-not-enough becomes just exactly right
and you wrap it all up in bliss
celebrate it as front page news
bold headline blazed right across the top of the wise night sky
and you will hear what they say about you
they will always say things about women like you
but the truth of your song
is now playing so loud
that their words will be drowned out by
the sound of your own singing
and by the festival of spirit that has been gathering in
when the demons come
and they will come
you will usher them close
coax them near
seducing with piercing eyes and parted lips
you will perch on their right shoulder
with quiet insistence
go. now is my time.
filling up your chest and your lungs and your mighty spirit
with visible proof of your inherent divinity.
your roaring sensuality
your selfless selfishness
and you will sear their skin with your brazen reclamation
and you will throw your arms wide
and lift your head back
and feel love radiating at you from all directions
especially from your white-hot core
fierce with reality
righteous with conviction
certain of self
and you will breathe
it in deep and think
So THIS is how it is.