Here’s to the women whose lives are not love stories. To the girls who grew up measuring
success based on what they achieved for themselves – what they worked through, what they
accomplished and what they did not let diminish them along the way.
Here’s to the women who grew up wanting more. More independence, more knowledge and
more opportunity than they were ever expected to achieve. To the women who were taught to be
quiet but found voices. To the women who were told to be chaste but chose passion. To the
women who were taught to sit down and keep quiet but who chose instead to stand up and fight.
Here’s to the women who never cared much for the fairy-tales that they were read. To the
women who rejected the scripts that they were given and went on to write their own.
Here’s to the girls who grew up with dirty hands and skinned knees. Who wanted to experience
the world first-hand and full-force, with no hidden intention or ambition of appearing desirable
to somebody else.
Here’s to the women who’ve been lonely. Who’ve felt the downfall and struggle of entertaining
a life that is not focused on love – who’ve watched friends settle down, partners move on and life
progress without them because their goals didn’t line up with everyone else’s plans. To the
women who have felt the full weight of their choices and kept choosing them anyway – because
they knew the kind of life that they wanted and they weren’t afraid to live it out fully.
Here’s to the women who fought to become their own saviors, their own heroes, the fierce
protagonists of their own triumphant stories. Here’s to the damsels who pulled themselves out of
distress and to the heroines who didn’t wait around to be saved.
Here’s to the women who know that in the story of their lives, they’re the ones holding the pen.
Words: @heidipriebe Pic: @skybambi
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