I often feel the safest when I am around women. It is only recently that I decided to more actively reflect on the reasons why.
Growing up, I sought comfort in the women closest to me (my mother, grandmother, sister) by burrowing into their physical and emotional softness. Bosoms, large arms, and yielding bellies were loving, sacred places that promised warmth and tenderness. (Thinking about these moments helps me remember why I need to continue loving the soft-vulnerable velvetiness of my own body.) It is an act of resistance to make oneself soft, to make the body a site of healing and strength to those who need it most.
To be… expanded
