First, before I start this – I think I just told my mother off and it felt so fucking good I can’t even tell you.

She left me a shit-storm of a voicemail, a vortex of insecurities that I have been listening to for all my life.

In a very brief response, it went something like:

I don’t actually ‘need’ anything because I have been on my own for 20 years. I have everything. If you want me to call you all the time – I will not. Living is exhausting for me. And, I hate the phone. 

Okay – moving on.

Let’s hold this space.

I write about things that occupy my heart – Kate Dicamillo

This is a quote from one of my classmates’ poems –

I tell my friend Cait that I want 
To be a strong woman.
And she says to me,
‘Yeah, but are there really any of those?’
And our conversation stops.
Because she is right. We have
Held the bold ones in the light
And seen that even they have cracks.

I can’t get this out of my head which has leaped me into a comprehensive collaborative writing project –

I only know strong women – or I should say, I am only friends with strong women.

The cracks make us strong – that’s the light shining through.

Life jostles us, moves us about, and makes us call out.

Let’s do something about that; let’s hold that space.