I do not measure strength by what you carry on your back, the figures on the scale or how much weight your muscles can hold.

I do not measure strength by the number of people you take down, the number you push aside or force out in the pursuit of your life.

I measure strength by those you lift up, who you carry alongside you and who you shine a light on when you can’t even find a spark for yourself.

I measure strength when you are alone, when there is no one else to applaud, motivate or bear witness to your action.

The nights you endure and the days you face when there feels nothing left inside of you. 

The tears you cry and the scars you expose, the burden you carry with you in your heart and in your head day in, day out.

Strength is being told no over and over and still saying yes when you believe it so.

Strength is also saying no

Firmly. Loudly. Defiantly

when you don’t agree or don’t want to.

Strength is being pushed into a corner, forced to be small and still standing tall in your truth.

Strength is a constant fight against the grain.

Strength is the voice of reason in a room full of lies.

Look me in the eyes and tell me it’s easy.

Look me in the eyes and tell me I’m not enough.

Look me in the eyes and tell me I am not strong.

For I will stand up, wider, taller, full of nothing but me and show you all of my strength.

I will show you I am strong.

My kind of strong.