Because she has earned it. Each bump in the road, rear end collision and sly comment meant to derail my success. The highs, lows, stalemates and dreams realized. The ones that are yet to be but are beyond the bucket list, I've earned every stripe. I am Dawn A. Harden. Eleven letters that over the years I have proven to be in totality, learned to grow into like a little watermelon head baby awaiting the body to catch up, I am she.
A journey not easy yet worth every pubescent step. Winning the war against back-handed compliments, a warrior with quiet power in the moment but not on the defense as actions speak louder than words and success yields more evidence than a retort. I am she. The woman struggling to find herself, trying to make sense of the hard work seemingly going unrewarded, finally biting into the reward- I am she. Never salty but seasoning her speech with to inspire-embolden. She is eleven and happy to be. While the naysayers brag, their bounty is lacking. The loud roar has no bite because it releases instead of a bouquet, a stench of gangrene.
A power source not to be trifled with, rendered from or conquered. I am she. Boardroom voices squelching ideas only to realize later the whispers are from their own insecurity. In a director's realm a calling of silence-I am she because I am not waiting to be called on, I have a voice heard loud and clear from the front of the stage-I am she. Responsive instead of reactive as a mighty butterfly unveiled from its genesis. Reminders of eleven letters telling of a life gaining momentum, a story worth hearing. Worrying not of those that can, but staying engaged and present, recognizing the competition is not even skin deep but a cracked veneer to be broken through, subdued by efforts to rise and stand tall. Not an I.Q., data or statistic-I am eleven and I'm pretty sure I have earned it.
Until next time~
A journey not easy yet worth every pubescent step. Winning the war against back-handed compliments, a warrior with quiet power in the moment but not on the defense as actions speak louder than words and success yields more evidence than a retort. I am she. The woman struggling to find herself, trying to make sense of the hard work seemingly going unrewarded, finally biting into the reward- I am she. Never salty but seasoning her speech with to inspire-embolden. She is eleven and happy to be. While the naysayers brag, their bounty is lacking. The loud roar has no bite because it releases instead of a bouquet, a stench of gangrene.
A power source not to be trifled with, rendered from or conquered. I am she. Boardroom voices squelching ideas only to realize later the whispers are from their own insecurity. In a director's realm a calling of silence-I am she because I am not waiting to be called on, I have a voice heard loud and clear from the front of the stage-I am she. Responsive instead of reactive as a mighty butterfly unveiled from its genesis. Reminders of eleven letters telling of a life gaining momentum, a story worth hearing. Worrying not of those that can, but staying engaged and present, recognizing the competition is not even skin deep but a cracked veneer to be broken through, subdued by efforts to rise and stand tall. Not an I.Q., data or statistic-I am eleven and I'm pretty sure I have earned it.
Until next time~
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