Zen…

To every woman who has ever been told to sit down—when she was born to stand tall.

To the ones who were silenced, softened, shaped into something easier to hold—but never enough to be free.

To the ones who were told to be less—when their fire was meant to burn through the world.

To the daughters who raised themselves.

The mothers who gave until there was nothing left.

The single moms who became both softness and steel.

The big sisters who took bullets meant for others.

The best friends who held secrets.

The lovers who gave their bodies and their hearts, hoping to be chosen, hoping to be enough.

To the CEOs who walk into rooms and make them listen.

The businesswomen who play the game better than the men who made the rules.

The doctors who put broken bodies back together.

The nurses who watch people take their first and last breath.

The lawyers who fight for voices that have been silenced.

The teachers who raise children that aren’t theirs.

The factory workers whose hands keep the world turning.

The cleaners, the maids, the invisible ones who make life easier for everyone but themselves.

The farmers, the vendors, the market women standing in the heat.

The strippers, the dancers, the sex workers who know men better than their own mothers do.

The writers, the painters, the singers who create beauty from pain.

To the women in mansions who feel empty.

The women in slums who dream bigger than the sky.

The women in boardrooms who still get interrupted.

The women in kitchens who were told that’s where they belong.

The women who can’t walk alone at night.

The women who stay in love that’s killing them.

The women who left and had to rebuild themselves from nothing.

The women who have never been told, “You did well.”

The women who carry names that are too heavy.

The women who are seen as nothing but bodies.

The women who are never seen at all.

And yet. You are still here.

You have been used, underestimated, overlooked.

They have tried to erase you, control you, teach you to be small.

They have fed you shame, called it kindness.

Told you to wait your turn, called it patience.

Given you less, called it enough.

Taught you to carry the world, but never to own it.

And still, you are here.

You are the hunger that refuses to be starved.

The storm that refuses to pass.

The mind that cannot be owned.

The body that cannot be shamed.

The voice that will not be quiet.

The world does not hand women power.

But you were never meant to be given anything.

You were meant to take.

Take space. Take your pleasure. Take your respect. Take what should have always been yours.

Not just today.

Every day.

Because history was never meant to hold you—

You were meant to break it.

Happy International Women’s Day.