Fierce

This is a photo I found online a couple years back nearly, amongst many photos and many articles about the protests in the US:

I don’t know why I liked it so much, and honestly there so many great signs held up by so many people a couple of years ago. And the girl clearly didn’t do it herself, but there’s a bit of a sentiment behind it that I kind of love. And I love the fact that the little girl holding the sign has long hair and a cat headband… Because there is just something to me about being fierce, and it does bring up associations to me of not backing down… saying your truth, or shouting your truth from the rooftops even, if that’s what you want. Or saying nothing at all, because that’s not safe, but having your heart with them, standing alongside them from afar, head held high, speaking these truths and changing perceptions in small daily interactions. Loving somebody through their pain and sorrow, not forcing them to put it aside or hide it, but being present. Loving someone through their anger, affirming it’s validity, not quenching the blaze.

This word feels like a fire burning in my belly. Hot and roaring and loud. We won’t sit by in silence, we won’t do nothing. And we can wear cat headbands or dress in pink, or wear dark colours or clothes from the mens/boys section. We can look like whatever we want, and do whatever we want so long as it doesn’t hurt anybody. But we aren’t to be overlooked.

For me the word fierce makes me think of fierce women, and fierce daughters, and fierce allies. Standing up for what’s just, putting up a fight, singing our truths, or standing by others doing so. That’s fierce. And that makes me proud.

Fierce in strength, fierce in love, fierce in hope, fierce in sorrow, fierce in grief, fierce in change. Fierce for each other.

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