This is the story of coal, of gold, of a phoenix whose beauty is not in her ashes but in the dust that settles just before it dies. In the fire that burns its wings. Women are the heart of a dying star, a moment in time that exhibits the strongest, the bravest, the one who is able to endure. We are present when lightning strikes the sand, but we are not the lightning like people think. Bullies, aggressive, always ready to strike- no. Our strength is more refined. We are not the sand. Unsightly, burdensome, less than nothing- no. We are the moment the lightning strikes the sand, penetrating monotony to form a unique creation. Purposes by design, perfection by experience. No one can define it, but everyone sees its strength, its beauty, its power. Therefore, to who it may concern: We need no validation. We have risen in beauty from the sand, shocked to find it necessary to prove our worth. We are not the exception; we are the rule. We speak, not to recognize our right to be ourselves, but to ask why you thought that you could condescendingly hand it to us? We do not want war, but are prepared for battle. The dust, the ashes, the lightning have given us the insight: if you try to destroy us, we will only become more.” – @regalwrench from @vogueeko

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