Babe

How are you showing up in the world today, Sis?

Me? Oh I’m here. Barely. But here.
I’m showing up with bags under my eyes, a testament to incessant, never-ending marking, endless spreadsheets and data collection, and the logistical nightmare of moving countries, relocating, and renovating all at the same time. My big girl panties are on – bless their overstretched elastic - and my marbles? Well, those are in one very shallow basket, ready to spill over at any moment.

But guess what?

I. Am. Here.
Functioning-ish. Upright. Wafting Oud and citrus. That counts as a win!

I’m showing up in willingness and kindness, my hair might be kroes after a dodgy visit to the hairdressers, but my disposition is authentic. Elyanna is on a loop, bass thumping away at my anxiety, and I’m bopping like nothing’s wrong. Because life is messy but I’m still choosing vibes over violence.

We handle our business, don’t we Sis?
At least 87% of the time.
The other 13% we cry in the car, eat bread, and pretend emails and the batches of marking don’t exist.

Balance, Babe.

And when we stand in the eye of the storm… Phew.
Let’s not lie...these days are not just busy, they are chaos on crack.

Yet here we are:
Stage right, ready for all the drama, mascara clinging for dear life, eye shadow less smoky, more Fester Adams, but humor intact, and a few steps from a breakthrough.

What gets us through the disappointment, the betrayal, the mundane adulting, the midnight “what am I doing with my life” thoughts?
I look at you and honestly wonder:
How are you not feral yet?

I see you carrying love and duty like a champion: taking care of parents, kids, partners, pets, plants ....
You scale obstacles like they’re cardio and still manage to look composed while being one bad day away from cutting bangs again or dyeing your hair red!

But Sis… are YOU okay?
Are you sleeping or just blinking in the dark?
Are your meals nourishing or are you just nibbling on naartjies and licking clean jars of Peanut Butter...
Who tucks YOU in when you’re exhausted from lifting everyone else up?

Come sit.
Let's talk.
No judgement.
No pretending.
Just eye contact, lots of nodding, salty snacks, and roaring until that spark returns.

When your heart is tender, your fear loud, and your optimism’s not optimal… come rest next to me.
I’ll sit guard gently patting you back to sleep when life tries to wake you up with even more nonsense.

We’ll talk when you want. Throw shade at life (and maybe him), then circle back to gratitude like the warriors we are.

And listen closely because I am certain of this like I am certain that the laundry never ends and the kitchen will never remain clean:

The storm will pass.

And one day soon, we will sit again, joy shining bright across our tired faces.
We’ll laugh at the tragedy or betrayal that nearly took us out.
We’ll sip something good, breathe deep, and remember:

Sisterhood is the anchor: Babe, together we got this.