WONDEROAK

I might not “know” you; we may never have spoken; but sister, I am with you.

Maybe I walked past you in the store and our shoulders touched. Maybe we smiled and said “hi” in a coffee line. Maybe I complimented you on your purse or your jeans or your hair. Maybe we brushed against each other for three seconds out of the 2,207,520,000 seconds in an average lifetime. We do not know each other, but that’s beside the point. Sister, I am with you. This life is too hard and complicated and beautiful and painful to be anything other than with each other.

I will not judge you by your bad days or your worn out sweat pants or your dirty hair; and I will not judge you for a red dress and heels seven hours after birth.

I won’t judge you for your kids’ mismatched socks (or lack of socks at all). I won’t judge you for your giant coffee and your resting bitch face (which may very well be tired, exhausted face).

I will not judge you when your kid is screaming like a banshee and doing snow angels on the germ-ridden Target floor.

I won’t judge you for your grocery cart. It can be full of Doritos and Pepsi or grass-fed, organic everything, and I will not judge you.

I will not judge you for your breastfeeding or your bottle feeding, or your ten children, or your zero children.

I won’t judge you for your your WIC or your food stamps (been there).

I won’t judge you for your car, or your clothes, or your fast food trash that fell out the door in the school pick-up line (oh wait, that was me).

I won’t judge you for your rehab or your struggles or your brokenness. Not ever will I judge you for that.

I will not judge you for any reason. I will not partner with shame, because even if you are broken, my dear friend…you are fierce.

Sister, I am with you.

I believe in sisterhood. I will be with you in your mess and your glory even if it’s from an aisle over, or a Facebook post I read from 10,000 miles away. I support you…it might be in a prayer, or in a “I get it sister, you got this” whispered under my breath.

I will be like the woman that gave me a thumbs up from her car when I was on a run. I will be like the woman who said, “you got this mama, you’re doing great” when I was not actually doing great with a tantruming child on a park bench. We are in this together and I needed them in that moment to remember that. Those women took 3 seconds and they reminded me that I am not alone.

Sister, I am with you.

When I feel critical it always has everything to do with the way I feel about ME and nothing to do with you at all…

So I will also choose (the hardest thing), and that is to not judge me either.

We don’t have to be the same to be together. Sister, I’ve got your back…I am with you.

Let’s conquer the world with sisterstylelove.

Solidarity.

xoxo,

Jess