I went down the social media rabbit hole recently and Tumbled upon the beautiful words written below. Social media has the immense capacity to lead us into the comparison trap, but it also has the ability to do what it started out to do: connect us. To Katharine, That Kind of Woman, the stranger on the internet, thank you for writing, and thank you for sharing your voice. It’s resonated with me profoundly.

“I want a handsome man with beautiful lips to not use them to weave empty promises. I want partnership, at no cost to the love I have for myself. I want to be rid of all the people that don’t apologize.

A sincere apology is a balm on a festering wound. 
Actions speaks louder than words.
Lies are the easiest things to tell, but the worst to maintain. 

I want rolling hills in the views from my kitchen windows. I want to tell your story. I want to tell your cousin’s neighbor’s high school sweetheart’s story. I want you to live in my writing, in the spaces I create. I want you to feel engulfed. I want to burn you up, and calm you down. 

I want to feel strong in my body. A strength that comes from my hard work. From my growth. I want to feel firm under the achingly soft. Not just the soft and the ache.

I want to stop the doubt. I sit here, half torn apart. Sleep deprived. Scared. Hopeful. Resigned. 

I am a patchwork quilt of my best and worst intentions. Of my sacrifices, of my sins. Of my glory and pride. Of all the things that make me singular. 

We are all singular in the fabric of our souls, but we are bound by our similarities. 

I believe in you. I trust you. I’m here for you. 

I say this first to myself. Silently in my head, then silently moving my mouth, then a whisper. Then say it out loud. Like you’re talking to someone in the same room, a little farther away. Some days it stays a whisper. Some days it ends high pitched, as I sit in my car and cry.

I think one of the safest places to cry is my car. I swear, the intimacy of a car is only rivaled by the intimacy of being in a car while it’s traveling through an automatic car wash. Play a song the next time you’re at it. Alone or with someone else. Tell the person next to you. 

I believe in you. I trust you. I’m here for you. 

We don’t believe in others enough. We don’t trust one another anymore. We abso-fucking-lutely only show up when it benefits ourselves. 

I believe in you. I trust you. I’m here for you.

I’ll type it to all of you. I’ll yell it at you across the street. I’ll mouth it to you across the room. I’ll send it via voice memo. I’ll say it into your hair as we hug. 

I think all we want is someone yelling, saying, whispering, writing it to us. And for us to say it back, meaning filled. 

I believe in you. I trust you. I’m here for you.“