One woman loved seeing the empty ink cartridges and knowing that the liquid wasn’t just spilled or poured out.  That liquid had been used to express, to give,  to assume guilt, to point fingers and to share love.  That ink allowed her to become powerful, to become empowered, to find strength, to become a woman.  That ink allowed her to pursue her dreams.

A heart was once closed, blocked off, protected – then the walls disappeared.  Maybe there had been cracks all along, maybe it was tight as a drum.  Now that heart is wide open.  Her words come pouring out.  There is no fight, no struggle.

Years and years of the desire to be seen, to be acknowledged are at an end.  That woman found others who saw her light, who surrounded and protected her.  Once she felt safe, she felt free to create.  Those words were piled up behind her heart wall, decades of words.

The other woman created a story.  She was hard-done-by.  Her life was so much more difficult than the lives of others.  She worked so hard; it was her responsibility to do it all.  She had to make all the decisions.  No one saw how hard she worked.  No one saw her struggles.

She believed firmly in this story.  She thought about it constantly.  She told her children the story.  She discussed it with her husband.

And because she believed the story so thoroughly she was unable to see the contributions of others.  Her beliefs caused her to be blind.  Because she could not see, she could not value.  Because she could not value, she lost the contributions.

Now she is alone, she has to do all the work, she has to make all the decisions.

Which woman are you?