Help a sister out.

Go figure, you think you've cleaned the barn for the last time and the rains come again.

But I'm grateful for the soft, healing drops of water before summer begins.
I know I'm a softie, and the horses don't necessarily need to go into the barn but they sure like it.
Wish in particular. If you've read my book, you'll know her back story. She was a rescue from a breeding 'project' gone south. Lots of horses starving and finally taken from the hands of a human who didn't do right by them.
I adopted her and she's been here now for over ten years. Wish and I had the unexpected dismount experience together, and now she just hangs out and eats too much.
I guess it would make sense to send her down the road. Right? But that's not happening and so instead she eats too much and gets to go in the barn when she's trembling and I rub her down with a towel.
She deserves a soft spot.
We all do.
I was talking with a dear friend of mine yesterday and she was having a tough time. Sometimes all we can do is listen - and listening is so underrated in our fast world. I listened and the words I heard were harsh. Not to me, but the words she used to describe herself.
Ouch.
She's not alone. Women tend to beat themselves up. I have my own thoughts about why that is, and I'm trying to be hyper cognizant of not using diminishing words when I speak about or to something that matters to me. Sometimes we're not even aware we're doing it, until someone points it out.

When I began a really tough job, I heard these words come out of my mouth "I just....." and I stopped.
I just? A qualifier, a diminishing word. I decided right then to knock that off.
I adopted a go big or go home approach. If I was charged to do the job, and it was a Herculean task, I wasn't going to ask for permission to get it done.
All too often we pose our words to others and to ourselves as if we're asking permission.
Asking for approval.
Asking for validation.
This is what I know. You haven't gotten this far in life by being a loser.
You haven't gotten this far in life by being lightweight.
You haven't earned the bumps and bruises and scars scattered across your body and your life by not showing up.
You've showed up plenty.
You've stood up.
You've grappled with tough times.
You've won some, some have taken their toll but you're still in the game.
You aren't sitting in the cheap seats, up in nosebleed area, you're right at the ring.
As your friend I'm not going to accept the diminishing words you use to describe your pain.
Being tired under the strain is not weak.
Feeling at the end of your rope does not a loser make you.
It makes you a contender.
As your friends we're in your corner.
Wiping the sweat from your face, bringing you water.
Telling you you've got this.
I know grown beep men who couldn't bear the wear and tear of your life.
Who would crack under the pressure, the pain.
I'm proud and honored to be your friend. To know someone of your heart, your kindness, your tenacity, how you endure under circumstances that seem insurmountable.
Next time you call yourself weak, a loser, because you are weary and tired, these are the words I have for you -
courageous
strong-hearted
trying
enduring
I admire that you have kept your heart soft in a hard world.
That alone is an act of courage. Do you need a high five? I'd love to hear your journey. xoxo