The Unlawful Existence of Threats to my Softness

bobby pins + hair ties...

There comes a time in most women’s lives when merely existing is not enough to satisfy the longing deep down in their well-used bones. For more. For better. For healthier. For richer. For wiser.

The quest to conquer more, better, healthier, richer, and wiser begins, and we’re willing to sacrifice so much of ourselves to obtain everything we know we deserve. We build the woman we’ve always wanted to become. Rightfully so, our peace is the result of our labor.

While it’s often believed the fight has ended, strangely, it supersedes the tranquility that concludes our quest. It is the constant fear of losing all we’ve worked so hard to gain that forces us to acknowledge the unlawful existence of threats to our newfound softness.

Now that our feet are elevated and our positions have shifted, we can view things, people, and situations from different angles. Things never look the same after you’ve changed.

My right hand held my hair in place as my left hand twisted the black wrapper around it, when, all of a sudden, I was presented with a question that mirrored my current reality. One that I am often complimented for. One that I am proud of. One that I have worked effortlessly to maintain over the years. One that has come with more loss than gain. But I can honestly say that the losses were anchors that needed to be shed like unwanted calories just weeks before summer is set to land.

What are you willing to do to contain the unlawful existence of threats to your softness?

My answer wasn’t hidden in Morse code. Neither was it underneath a pile of thoughts in my head. It wasn’t at the back of my brain. Neither was it buried by selflessness.

“Whatever it takes,” I whispered as I lowered my arms and admired my handiwork in the mirror.

The brief struggle with my hair to create the ponytail became symbolic of the struggle to become the woman I am today. I’m protective of her. She’s the most fragile version of me I’ve ever encountered, and I love her as if I’ve known her my entire life. The lengths I’m willing to go for her safety are no secret to anyone who knows us.

Cut off the closest family member. Disappear from social media. Dissolve my interactions with people who are imprisoned by a poverty mindset. Leave my spouse. Immerse myself in my studies and characters. End a friendship. Check into a hotel for a week. Say no a hundred times. Address people and situations that have wronged me. Pick up and move to a new city. Get on the next plane out.

Whatever it takes–for her.

And, the lack of means to protect her feels too much like using bobby pins instead of an expandable hair tie to secure my ponytail–leaving it vulnerable, weak, and susceptible to harm.

Gaining peace and keeping peace aren’t the same. It’s a truth that haunts us all. But it doesn’t have to, because we’re not using bobby pins to make our ponytails; we’re using them to support them.

Hair ties:

• Dissolving friendships that no longer serve the woman you’ve become.

• Limiting or eliminating interactions with people who can’t understand this version of you.

• Finding comfort in being alone.

• Ending a relationship with the person who darkens your days.

• Divorcing the present, yet absent partner.

• Discovering solace in no-contact.

• Setting boundaries with your mother and father and grandmother and aunts and uncles.

• Choosing not to keep scrolling (social media).

• Disabling your direct messages (social media).

• Limiting certain people to certain contact methods. (Ex. Amy, text only. Jules, weekend chats.)

• Creating rituals that replenish you often and effectively.

• Passing up on the group trip while quietly exiting the group.

• Changing your cell number.

• Opening your Bible (if you are a believer).

• Understanding that you will better serve your child as a single parent.

• Applying for that job in another city.

• Going sober.

• Taking the emergency contraceptive.

• Finding a therapist who suits your needs.

• Saying less, observing more.

Bobby pins:

• Setting FOCUS hours on your cell.

• Ignoring text conversations that don’t suit you.

• Staying home.

• Avoiding phone calls and text threads when your emotions are high.

• Placing time limits on apps on your cell.

• Picking up a hobby.

• Finding a journal you love and telling it how you feel (often).

• Making new friends (who align with the person you’ve become, not who you were).

• Starting a television series.

• Learning a new language.

• Reinforcing boundaries set for family/friends.

• Giving dating a rest.

• Traveling.

• Purging your closet.

• Maintaining your privacy.

Hair ties aren’t hard to find. However, you will need both hands to secure them around your hair. And, when the flyaways appear, a bobby pin will get them back in line.

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This was an issue I sent through snail mail to my club called The September Letter. If you’d like to receive letters like this, then head over. The list is open.