Love Warrior
Page 21
“Women who are concerned with being pretty think about what they look like, but women who are concerned with being beautiful think about what they are looking at. They are taking it all in. They are taking in the whole beautiful world and making all that beauty theirs to give away to others. Does that make sense?”
Tish says, “I think so. It’s like, when you first wake up, Mommy. You look really, really bad. Your hair is messy and your face looks weird. But when you see me, your eyes get twinkly. Is that because you think I’m beauty?”
“Yes, baby. I’m filling up with you. Because I want to be beautiful.”
The kids nod and pretend to understand every word I’ve said. Then Chase calls out for them and Amma pinches Tish and they all run outside. I stand at the counter, listening to the echo of what I’ve just said to my girls. I consider the possibility that I’ve been right and wrong my whole life. I was right to want to be beautiful and sexy; I was just wrong to have accepted someone else’s idea of what those words mean. It strikes me that I need to throw out the dictionary the world gave me about what it means to be a mother, a wife, a person of faith, an artist, and a woman and write my own. I’ve finally unlearned enough. I have unbecome, and I am ready to begin again.
I pour myself a cup of tea and stand still in the kitchen. I look down at my hands cupped around my mug and my belly grazing the counter. I say to my body, I’m sorry. This is me, making amends. I am going to love you now because you are the vessel through which the world delivers beauty and love and wisdom to my soul. My eyes take in the beauty of the Gulf, my lungs take in the freedom of the air, my mouth and stomach accept life from food and drink, my arms gather the love of my children, and my breasts, legs, and hands accept and return the love of my husband. You are the ship that delivers love from the shore of another being to the shore of me. I was an island before. I didn’t know how to let myself out or let others in. Thank you. Thank you for accepting all this love and beauty on my soul’s behalf. Thank you for being so patient with me.
Suddenly I find myself wanting more beauty, more love—as if gratitude immediately widened the vessel, creating space for more. I walk out of the kitchen and into my bedroom. I look over at my bed and feel warmth. I ask my body what it needs to feel safe and loved. I think of my senses, and I light some incense. The smell of incense reminds me of holy things, and certainly sex is that. I open the windows so the birds’ songs can remind me that what is about to happen was made by God and blessed by God and that any shame added to it is a lie.
Then I walk into the bathroom and wash all the war paint off of my face. I stop to look in the mirror and notice the untouched gray streak running through my short hair. I feel like my gray hair and bare face make me look young. Fresh. Vulnerable and unsure. The woman in the mirror looks unfamiliar, but it’s clear that she’s not acting. I like her. I step back and look at my body. I look at the stretch marks from carrying my babies and breasts made limp from feeding them. Marks of the Warrior. There’s nothing here but what nature insists upon. This is me. Naked, unashamed, stripped down to my barest essentials. Just me. Just me is all I’ll ever offer anyone again. Thank God, just me is what Craig needs.
I lie down in bed and invite Craig in. He climbs in next to me, slowly, carefully, reverently. Then we begin the dance of surrender. I let myself respond to Craig’s body instinctually—my body and soul and mind moving in synch—like a school of fish that magically turns away and toward the current simultaneously and without caucus. They just know what to do. They have faith. And here I am, present with Craig. Mind, body, soul—showing up. Right here, right at the surface. All of me, in love.
Afterword
CRAIG AND I STAND ON THE BEACH, facing the Gulf of Mexico. The sun is setting and the sky is purple and orange and the water is every shade of blue. I am wearing cutoffs, a tank top, and a ponytail. Craig is in a T-shirt and board shorts. We are both barefoot and the sand is warm on top and cool underneath. We bury our feet deep and we turn toward each other and hold hands. We look into each other’s eyes and smile. There is no one else present. No minister, no parents, no children. This is not a show. This is just us. We exchange our new vows.
I say to Craig, “Here I am, Craig.”
Craig smiles and says, “Here I am, Glennon.”
We kiss—and here we are.
Here we are, and here we vow to be—our true selves right at the surface. Togetherness is what Craig and I have chosen today. Tomorrow, if wisdom leads us in a different direction, we will not be destroyed. We know now that life offers us many paths. Each has its own particular beauty and pain. Each path is love, and at the end of each path is redemption.
I do not know whether we will spend our lives married or loving each other from a distance, but I now know the path of the Love Warrior: I will not betray myself. I will trust the wisdom of the still, small voice. I will not let fear drown her out. I will trust her and I will trust myself.
Love, Pain, Life: I am not afraid. I was born to do this.
Acknowledgments
CRAIG, for becoming your own hero, so that Here We Are.
SISTER AMANDA, for coming back for me, for carrying me, following me, leading me, and being my partner since the day you were born.
AMY, for your Warrior heart, for your relentless devotion to the forgotten, for being our third sister.
MOM, for teaching me that love is a relentless showing up for our people. I became like you after all, thank God.
DAD, for teaching me that I have Warrior blood running through my veins. You were right: It’s All Okay.
CHASE, for bringing me into the world, for being the wisest one I know, for forgiving us, for believing in us still.
TISH, for showing me my own beauty by showing yours, for your elegance and grit and stunning honesty, for your kindness, which is my favorite kind of courage.
AMMA, for loving us all so freely and fiercely, for always saying, I love you, too, Mama, for the smell of your hair and neck: the most comforting thing I know.
JOHN AND JEFFREY, for the true partnership that allows Sister Amy to be true to their callings.
BOBBY AND ALICE, for making us so happy.
JOSH, DREW, AND NATHAN, for encouraging your mama, Amy, to take her part in a world-changing story, for being and believing.
AUNT PEGGY, for being our rock and our pilot.
UNCLE KEITH—now you’ll know which page to sign.
* * *
ALLISON, for your sharp mind, for taking a chance, for being our only cool.
LIZ B., for your relentless devotion and bottomless heart.
KATHERINE, NICOL, MEGHAN, ERIN, NATALIE, KAREN, TAMARA, CHRISTINE, AND ASHLEY, for the countless hours of love work that have changed the world.
AMY P., for loving through that lens.
WHIT, for your tirelessness, brilliance, and devotion, and for believing in me first. For all of those early-morning e-mails: You’re doing it, G! This is it! Keep going! There is no end to my gratitude. We were meant for each other.
FLATIRON—Bob, Liz, Marlena, Molly, Karen, and Emily—for changing publishing with your courage and innovation and dedication. I can’t imagine having trusted anyone else with this story.
MARGARET, for taking me on and then taking me everywhere. We have only just begun.
KATHLEEN, for treating our people like family. For becoming family to us.
JENNIFER, for your vision and fire.
JOANNA, for honoring your gift by using it even when no one was watching. For being brave enough to say yes. For being the only artist who could have brought our Love Warrior to life.
* * *
SARAH, for promising me it was beautiful enough.
SISTER LIZ, for loving and Sistering both of me: Tempest and Honeyhead.
ROB, for the phone call I’ll never forget.
BRENÉ AND CHERYL, for bringing the light.
BRIAN AND RACHEL, for keeping the faith and leading with courage and tenderness.
ANN,
NIKI, AND PARNASSUS, for holding a cozy corner for me.
NANCY, for a heart so big it became our family’s second home.
GOD’S GIRL, for being the world’s Love Warrior.
* * *
MOMASTERY READERS, for doing this brutiful life with me.
TO ALL THE LOVE WARRIORS who have stood with Together Rising: Let’s never stop. Let’s make Love Win or die trying.
ALSO BY GLENNON DOYLE MELTON
CARRY ON, WARRIOR
The Power of Embracing Your Messy, Beautiful Life
About the Author
Glennon Doyle Melton is the author of the New York Times bestseller Carry On, Warrior and founder of the online community Momastery, where she reaches more than one million people each day. She is also the creator and president of Together Rising, a nonprofit organization that has raised close to five million dollars for families around the world through its Love Flash Mobs, which have revolutionized online giving. Glennon is a sought-after public speaker, and her work has been featured on The TODAY Show, The Talk, OWN, and NPR; in The New York Times, Ladies’ Home Journal, Glamour, Family Circle, Parents Magazine, Newsweek, Woman’s Day, and The Huffington Post; and in other television and print outlets. Glennon lives in Florida with her family. You can sign up for email updates here.
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Epigraph
Prelude
Part One
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Part Two
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Part Three
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Afterword
Acknowledgments
Also by Glennon Doyle Melton
About the Author
Copyright
Certain names and identifying characteristics have been changed, whether or not so noted in the text, and certain characters and events have been compressed or reordered.
LOVE WARRIOR. Copyright © 2016 by Glennon Doyle Melton. All rights reserved. For information, address Flatiron Books, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.flatironbooks.com
Grateful acknowledgment is made for permission to reproduce from the following:
“Hero” words and music by Walter Afanasieff and Mariah Carey © 1993 WB Music Corp., Wallyworld Music, songs of Universal Inc. and Rye Songs. All rights on behalf of itself and Wallyworld Music. Administered by WB Music Corp. All rights for Rye Songs administered by Songs of Universal., Inc. All rights reserved. Used by permission of Alfred Music and Hal Leonard Corporation.
The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
ISBN 978-1-250-07572-7 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-250-12765-5 (international, sold outside the U.S., subject to rights availability)
ISBN 978-1-250-11015-2 (signed edition)
ISBN 978-1-250-07574-1 (e-book)
e-ISBN 9781250075741
Our e-books may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, extension 5442, or by e-mail at MacmillanSpecialMarkets@macmillan.com.
First Edition: September 2016