When women fight with me I know that means we’re tight.
I don’t mean get nasty or are always on my ass.
I don’t mean say mean shit or complaining all the time.
I don’t mean have higher than hell expectations they demand me to reach.
I don’t mean being generally rude and snotty.
I don’t mean flying off the handle every chance they get.
I don’t mean physically or emotionally abusing me in any way.
I mean- when a woman takes the time to get pissed off and then finds the time to unpack it with me – she’s my sister. I’m in it for life.
Because now I know she won’t jump ship when there is pain in my life.
And she won’t bounce when I’m sick as a dog.
And she’ll be there when I’m depressed and anxious as fuck.
And she’ll be right nearby when I’ve fully cracked broken up.
She can face conflict and hardship and profound sorrow.
She can hold space for the greatness of emotions and deeper-than-dark times.
This is a woman who calls me and says “excuse me but I’m taking the next ferry over and you better meet me at ‘Bump n Grind’ to hash some shit out cause you wrote some stuff in your last post that really pissed me off and if we don’t talk right now I’m going to spin the fuck out so…I’ll be there in 2 hours.”
This is a woman who says “You’re doing “that thing” again and we need to talk so send me your best 3 times next week and book off 2 hours to get into it cause I’m righteously mad.”
This means she loves me enough to get into discomfort and work through struggle with me.
This is ferocious love.
These kinds of conversations take balance and effort. They take time and consideration.
And these are gifts we do not offer up to each other much anymore – so when my friend calls me and says “It might be all made up in my head…uh no actually…. it’s not all made up in my head. You’re pulling some shit right now. I gotta lay it down” I feel enormously blessed to have her in my life.
It’s so easy to ignore it and then let that ignoring turn into space and the space turns into time and then the time doesn’t want to make anymore time and then…we’re not friends anymore.
It happens quietly. It’s passive. It’s sneaking out the back door. And it’s part of a system we don’t want to ally with. It’s Mr. Patriarchy. Shut up. Don’t bother. Stay in your wooden boxes with your windows shut tight. Separate.
Women sticking together, moving through conflict, being willing to work to hear and see each other- to not be dissuaded or manipulated into turning the other way or standing down. That is radical political action.
And I ain’t letting no one off the hook.
And the truth is- we need to learn to fight each other well because then together we can fight something else, something larger and greater than a misunderstanding or hurt feelings or a royal screw up. Once you know you got a fighter by your side, you stand stronger in the world. YOU are NEVER alone again. SHE is with you and she just proved it by taking the time to tell you what a righteous fuck up you just did.
And soon, if we all built on that and could trust – that she won’t ghost and she won’t stray and she won’t flake and she won’t disappear. She’s HERE when it stinks like shit AND when I’m a tall, tall flower- now we’ve got ourselves an army.
Thank you my fighting friends. Thank you for diving deep. I’ve got your back too.
It’s not about the fight.
It’s about being willing to fight.
For All Women.
I’m in the fire with you.
I’m not going anywhere.
Because I respect womanhood that much
Let’s be proud of learning the skill of fighting well. Get it off our chests, ask questions and demand an answer. Push back with love. For love.
Because make no mistake – fighting for our friendships is feminist rebellion in action.
It is anti- establishment. It’s anti- capitalist, its anti- patriarchy.
It is ancient sisterhood weaving ourselves together with skill and care- for the strength of the whole.
That’s the kind of fighting that changes the world.