for my generation...

I read an article the other day about my generation. It talked about how we value experiences over possessions. We value that which connects us with those around us more than with what we can or might in the future, acquire. And, for the first time in a long time, I appreciated what we have brought to the table. I more than anyone have been hard on my generation...but, reading those words, thinking about who we are, the people who make up this great mass of humanity that I get to call my own, I was damn proud to be, for the first time, born when I was.

Do you know what we've done?

We have stood up and bucked the system.

We have said, no, I don't really dig this whole 9-5 thing, or in most cases, this whole 8-7 thing. I don't particularly want to be chained to a desk, so I won't be. I don't want to waste this one life I've been given, slaving away for someone else's monetary gain. I want to use my body as a canvas, painted with who I am for all to see. I want to grow my hair long when others think it should be kept short because of my gender. I want to cut my hair short when others think it should be long because that's what appeals to the opposite sex. I want to love who I love without boundaries or stipulations, despite gender or color or culture.

We have screamed that we just want to be us. Not boxed in or held back. We have proven we do, in fact, have fantastic work ethic, we just want to break the mold handed down to us of what traditional work looks like.

We are your facebook, instagram, snapchat, and social media creators. We are your designers and freelancers, forever pushing social norms and redefining the game. We are the ones that run wild and free. We are chasing the back of the north wind, because we have somehow tasted the elixir of a short life, and want to cram as many memories, connections, and experiences as we can into a single day.

We have sought out mountains and valleys, oceans and lakes, choosing tents over hotel rooms. We have composed music that shatters normalcy, connecting us with those listening, if just for a moment. We have recognized the beauty in written and spoken poetry, in pictures posted for the world to see, and we have somehow, magically, created ways to support ourselves through our crazy ideas that no one thought would ever work.

This is who we are.

We are your extreme athletes, extreme philosophers, extreme writers, artists, mathematicians, parents, daughters, sons. We are striving each day to live out what we are passionate about.

We are....millennials. For better or worse, this is who we are.

And I am finished. Finished with being ashamed of the generation I was born into and grew up with. I am finished beating down those I stand shoulder to shoulder with. For we are so. much. more. than others give us credit for. So, for those who are mine, for those who walk with me here and now in this  small space of time and humanity, I am proud of us. Of you. Of who we are.

Let's keep striving. Let's keep fighting the good fight. For love and hope and all that sums up who we are. Let's pass on to our children the value of memories made and lives lived well, filled to overflowing, and drunk of deeply.

We will only walk this way once. We cannot walk it again. Let's make it count.

~Jade

For the girl with the broken heart.

For every girl whose heart has been broken...

It's the call that vibrates out of your phone, when you push that green circular point of glass, allowing sobs to be heard and transmitted from towers into time and space. It's the sound of wounds opening up and bleeding, tears and pain echoing out of this small rectangular object, wishing it was not the messenger between worlds. It's the listening and uttering hollow words in return, about how this heart pain will not kill, even though she truly believes in this moment it will. It's letting tears slide down your own face remembering a night long ago, when the pain was yours to bear and when you too thought it would surely suck the life out of you in the deep of the night. It's sitting here, sinking deep into this couch, and just being the one who listens as her heart breaks open.

Slowly, the sobbing subsides and the dull ache settles in. Hello old friend. Visiting others now, are we? Like a living thing, walking heavy steps over shattered bits of heart, you stroll into the soul as if you own the place.

Trying to convince her she'll always be yours, are you? Trying to tell her your ache will always remain and she is too broken to be a whole being again. Ah, but I know this isn't true. You are not the owner and possessor of who we are as women. Our hearts do not remain here in this place, in cracked pieces on the floor of our souls. No, they will be gathered together again, placed back in the fire and reforged strong and sure. And where once a wound was cut deep, a scar will eventually settle in.

Don't hide the scars, dear girl. Wear it proudly. It proves that you came into this place, you showed up and gave it your best, and it does not define who you are, but bears witness to who you will become. There is something beautiful in the pain, though you may not be able to see it in this moment. There is a knowing that will come out on the other side of all this, a deeper understanding of who you are and what you can withstand. Yes, you'll carry the scar forever, but not this all consuming ache that is here now. It is this and so much more that is creating the strong woman who will take the place of the young girl. This is what makes our roots run deep into the soil of this great life we've been given. This is what anchors us in and lets us know that the storm will not drown or kill us. This is what turns us into women: embracing the pain, but not letting it define us.

You see, we don't get out of this life unscathed. Though there was a time that I once bought into this lie. No matter who we are, no matter where we live, no matter what we believe and even if we think there's some magic formula that will prevent it, there isn't. Life is simply hard, in all its beauty. It's really, really, hard. Pain is just a part of it. Baggage is also part of the bargain, BUT, the pain and baggage and really hard stuff, if we allow them, they can be the best of teachers. So no, while there isn't some magic out, some big red easy button to push, you wouldn't want to take the easy way, even if you could. Because gold is forged in the heat of the fire, and if you let it, the fire can change you into this as well.

You are learning this lesson, deep in the night and by the bright light of the morning after. You are not a timid mouse, cowering back and hiding in dark holes. You are a fierce young lioness, learning to stand tall and push forward. You are growing into a strong woman, a woman who will change the world. So, in this morning, drink dark coffee and let the tears slide down, but know. who. you. are. Not the pain. Not the ache. You are more, so much more, than this situation can ever try and convince you of.

So these are the words spoken back, echoed from a heart once shattered: this too shall pass, sweet girl.

You've got this.

Love and stuff, 

Jade.