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Vulnerable Me

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Vulnerable Me

If I met vulnerable me.
I would want to hug her..
I would just love on her right where she is.
I wouldn’t ask her to change.
I wouldn’t scold her.. but hold her if she wanted.
I would say it’s ok to cry and maybe I’d cry with her too.
I’d make sure she knows that to hide is not frowned on.
That she has freedom to be who she is.
I would listen for hours if she needed to speak.
I would give her privacy if she needed to retreat.
But tell her I’d miss her and long for her return.
But most of all I would tell her she’s precious.
That everything that has happened to her matters.
All of it.
I’d invite her to talk.
To rant.
To rave.
I would not take it personally because I know she’s brave and she needs it.
I’d tell her inside and out she’s beautiful and precious.
I’d want to hear her story.
I’d want to see her express it the way she felt comfortable.
I’d see her heart.
I’d respect her Spirit.
I’d remind her that although the world may not say it… her story needs to be told.
I’d just love her and sit with her… and hold her hand.
And tell her she’s always welcome..
That even if she stumbles and falls I will help her up and not judge.
That I won’t withdraw my love or presence just because she struggles.
I will always love her.
Always treasure her.
Always..

vulnerable

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