Lately my life has been full of some wonderful women.  Women who I had seen at various events, yet never spoke with beyond the cordial head nod and smile.  I have bonded with some women who I never imagined I had anything to contribute to their apparent perfect existence.  I was wrong.

I have been in the company of women who are younger and older than myself and felt chills at the hips swaying, lips matte and some shiny, sharing stories of their minds and hearts. Cleavage and headwraps; thighs and pedicured toes; baseball caps and curly naturals. Weaves and locs along with leggings and maxi skirts.  Women.

Women of color, to be more specific, with a few sprinkles of my lesser melanated compadres have been in my daily interactions exchanging adventures.  With children and without, as well with spouses/significant others and single in status, each and every one has been a woman first, in the dialogues we’ve laid at one another’s ears and souls. Women, imparting wisdom from lessons learned in their respective career fields, hygiene rituals, food preferences, fashion trends and relationships.

Once upon a time, I thought I had nothing to share or give to other women. Low self esteem and little to no sense of self worth, I stood in awe of those who flawlessly were well put together.  Something strange in their voices as they spoke about their lives.  I’d later found these women to be FALSE. Fake women. I was admiring them and never really being included but tolerated.  I did so much to squeeze in and be included into their activities. Often I was forgotten and left out.

False and fake because they used other women to elevate themselves only giving back to get…more. Ego stroking.

Then I met real women. Women who weren’t ashamed or afraid of sharing the real scars of their souls. Corporate execs, artists, healers yet most of all they were authentic, fierce and terrified.  They made the effort to let other women know they were SEEN and they asked to be seen by others.  This was invaluable to one who was and often felt invisible as myself.  In their love I grew. They taught me in their own movements to make room for whatever my spirit needed to heal and expand.

Shedding who you are to become more is not for punks.  Doing it with the love and support of other women who aren’t so full of themselves or their lives to recognize that your healing is also theirs is…just more. yeah more.

The love and loyalty of women with integrity, character and a desire to be more is where I found myself. There is strength in showing flaws and vulnerability to another. 

Instead of hiding behind masks and pretending to be okay… Settling in the silence of one’s own pain and struggling to make yourself fit into situations to save face.

Be brave enough to be in the company of some loyal women who allow you to be strong and weak when you need it.  What’s the point in hoarding what you have and not sharing it with another woman who needs your “lessons learned” to craft the recipe for her own healing.

Are you making excuses for not connecting with other women. Whatever your past held will surely die there UNLESS you insist on rebirthing it into every current relationship. Let that shit go.

I’m learning to be loyal to my women friends by being honest with myself.

1. When you are reluctant to connect or call,  ask yourself why.
2. Instead of texting or posting on social media, work to connect by calling, and planning an outing is sooo much better.
3. Sharing what you know and asking for what you need are muscles that should be exercised in female friendships and circles… OFTEN
4. Saying “I love you” in creative ways to a sister -friend creates a bond that heals all involved and even expands to others.
5. Stop side-eyeing other women, give a compliment and say hello no matter what her response is.  Believe me,  an impact is made that will be with you both long beyond that encounter.

Craft yourself to be a loyal woman and help develop other women to do the same.