Love to gently hold us so our edges don't get chipped away. Love to remind us we have value and a purpose in life. Love to protect us, uplift us, warm us to the core.
Imagine troops of love-givers, going through the suburbs, the depressed towns, the cities, the broken places. An army bringing kindness. Imagine them giving hugs, caring conversation, a hot drink. Imagine them listening to half-forgotten family jokes and laughing, and the laughter is in their eyes. Imagine them holding a woman while she weeps because her thighs are big or her hair is grey or she confesses whatever else she thinks must be wrong with her - holding her, smiling at her, doing that deep healing work before even saying a loving word to her.
We do not need freedom. We need to be told we matter. We are loved, and worth loving. Let me tell it to you now. You are important. Your sorrow matters. You don't have to push it away and be grateful for all the good things. Your sorrow matters. Your laughter matters. Your silly, sweet little jokes that no one else gets. The things that make you laugh matter. You are full of flowers and rocks and ocean spray and nightfall. You are beautiful.