I see you, sis. Holding the weight of the world on your shoulders.
I see you.
Fighting back the tears, wondering when the pressure will let up.
That forced smile.
Searching desperately for gratitude in the daily struggle.
I see you. Lost in your fear and worry, but wanting so desperately to be present.
I see you.
To everyone around you, it seems like you have it all together.
You provide for your family. Your kids are healthy. You seem happy.
You’ve checked all the boxes.
And yet …
It doesn’t fit.
You don’t fit.
This life. The daily grind. The constant negotiating with the kids, your partner, your boss, your mom. The fight for your time, your peace, your dreams.
All of it feels so heavy. So much work.
When did it get this hard? You wonder.
Is it supposed to be this hard?
Everyone else seems to have figured it out, you think. Why can’t I?
I see you.
I see you because I am you.
I’ve checked the boxes. I look successful.
But by whose definition of success?
Because this doesn’t feel like success.
This feels heavy.
It feels exhausting.
And it’s lonely.
God, is it lonely.
It doesn’t have to be this way though. We were made to believe that this was the way, because the truth is too scary.
The truth is that when we feel better, we’ll change the world.
The truth is that it should be better than this. It can be better than this.
But first, it takes acknowledging the pain. The disconnect. The wounding. The sorrow. It takes sitting with the discomfort, finding your voice, and dusting the cobwebs from your light.
It takes strength.
Discipline.
Courage.
A mountain of faith.
And a community of sisters who know the pain deep in their souls, and who are ready to stand in solidarity with you.
Who say, “Sis, I see you. I am you.”
Because when we lean in and stand in the discomfort together - that is where the magic happens.
That is where pain is transmuted to freedom, where sisterhood drowns out the sorrow of disconnect. Where discomfort becomes the fuel for epic creativity, and wounds lead the way to deep healing.
Together is where we become alchemists, birthing light into the darkness.
Sis, I see you.
I am you.
It will be better than this.