I Choose to Be a Woman of Consequence and Distinction. {poetry}
I’d rather be a woman of consequence and distinction.
To tell you what my heart says and be sure of it,
because I know for certain that no one but me is dictating how it beats.
I’d rather talk about wild dreams than the morning news over breakfast.
Unless you’re ready to tackle the root of all the issues:
a desperate need for connection and empathy amongst the fearful
and the different shades of unaddressed ignorance breeding hate.
I’d rather you read the joy across my face
while I stare into the eyes of something that I love,
than read my name tag at a stuffy work event I’m paid $40,000 a year to smile at.
I’d rather give you my time, in person, over the best eight-dollar specialty coffee I’ve ever had
than my cell number so you can text me
when you’re lonely on the left side of your California King.
I’d rather make love on a mattress with no sheets than
have to make a bed I don’t belong in at 7 AM
or wash and fold towels that smell like a life I never asked for.
I choose messy hair over tidy rooms.
I’d rather wake up honoring that feeling I get in my gut
when it tells me something’s not right for me.
And walk away before I get caught in the keep-on-keepin’-on
because someone says it’s too late to change,
or that I’d be a fool to leave.
I want to lie in the neighbor’s grass even if it’s less green than I would have hoped
because joy was meant for me in all hues.
I’d rather meditate on the beautiful than the difficult
and believe in fairy tales and people who stay.
I’d rather fall in love with lust that catches fire and burns so bright it singes heart strings
than guard the organ in my chest that makes my days pulse.
I’d rather be full than busy — full belly, full heart, full life.
Because busy is a cop out where the dreamer’s wildest dreams go to die.
I’d rather live fiercely and use language I care about while I lie in parks listening to podcasts
with humans who change the pace and movement in my chest when they reflect.
I’d rather swear in public and eat food I can’t afford on patios I’m under-dressed to be on
while I speak wisdom into people’s lives and know that I am worthy to do so.
Because my qualifications are my beating heart and my loving hands.
I’d rather be a loud example of a strong female
than a woman who compromised because the world suggested it as her best option.
I’d rather write and paint and swim naked and read books that give people hope
than make no ripples.
I’d rather live and walk authentically than crawl in the shadow of someone’s expectations.
And do it barefoot and in toe rings.
I’d rather talk about wild dreams than the morning news.
Or give you something real to think about
over a bottle of cheap wine and your surface-level conversations.
I’d rather claim full, and release busy.
I’d rather be a woman of consequence.
I choose to be a woman of distinction.
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Chelsey Reardon is a published writer, poet, and transformation coach for women. She uses words and writing as a tool for healing and self-discovery. Her jam is authentic conversation and connection rooted in her mission to help women reconnect with their innate power and wisdom. When she’s not writing, she’s empowering inner city youth and the women who raise them. You can find her at her website, or on Facebook and Instagram.
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