There’s strength in your softness

Keep fighting loves, but not with brute strength

*trigger warning - I talk about sexual abuse in this article

Hello you

What do you know of softness? What do you think, see and feel when you read that word?

Softness is a feminine quality I found so difficult to reach for in times of struggle. For me, I have always seen it as a weakness, something others will take advantage of if I show it yet it’s an inherent part of who I am, who we all are. Living alongside our softness however, can be a battle.

Sitting in the colosseum last week I realised how much strength there was in softness. It was a surreal experience to absorb a place where people once fought for survival and honour. The energy remains and the contrast was stark on the senses; the shuffling of chatty tourists combined with the fading golden glow on stone, the shadow of something ancient and immense.

I never know what will happen on these solo adventures of mine but I secretly hoped Rome had something special in store. I expected an epiphany while I was staring at the sistine chapel maybe, one of two attractions I wanted to see while I was there. But no, the most impactful part of my trip unfolded in the last opening hour of the Colosseum as the sun dipped behind the remains of its walls and birds circled overhead.

Gladiator is my favourite film so this was a deeply personal moment for me, but I didn’t expect it to be a soul moving one. I’d booked a ticket that allowed me to access what was the arena, found a quiet corner to rest in and played the soundtrack to the movie in my headphones. Then the tears came. I knew they would, that they needed to and I specifically wanted to hold space for them in this place. Consciously I wasn’t aware of why, I was following a feeling. An inner pull. Trusting the answer would be revealed.

I thought about Maximus (the lead character in the film if you haven’t seen it) and how he fought for honour when all he wanted to do was lay down and die because he’d lost everything that mattered to him. I thought of all those who had fought in the same way he was depicted in the film exactly where I sat. And then of course, I thought of myself - and you.

I thought of how many times we’ve been knocked down and got back up, how hard it is but how victory lies in our ability to rise and how we can do so in our femininity, free from the weapons of destructive force like distraction and shields of emotional numbing.

My mind replayed how I’d been raped and got back up, pinned against a wall with a fist to my ear then thrown on the floor and got back up, abandoned by those I loved and desperately wanted to love me back - and once again got back up. How I was still here, despite everything - making my dreams come true, but how I hadn’t done it with brutality, I’d done it by remaining soft and keeping my heart open, by choosing not to be like those who’d hurt me, by choosing compassion, peace, respect and healing. By choosing love. The very thing I’d been convinced was my weakness has and will continue to be my greatest strength.

The reason I love Gladiator so much is the hero’s journey it lays out for us. What Maximus needs vs what he wants and the struggles he faces to get there is nothing shot of storytelling mastery. Stories are how we find understanding both of the world and ourselves. They inspire feelings, ideas and in the most powerful of outcomes, positive action.

I used to think strength lay in my ability to be hyper independent, maintain emotional boundaries and see any project I set my heart on through to the end. But I was wrong. True strength lies in softness and the thing nobody tells you about growth is it doesn’t always feel good or look glamorous. It can feel downright scary to dismantle the beliefs, routines and comfort zones we’ve created to feel a false sense of safety before we reach a higher place.

But when we’re out of alignment, of our true rhythm and purpose, our body knows and we can never know peace. This is the pull you feel to try something for the first time, connect deeply with another, visit a place you’re dreaming of or even start a whole new life.

The reality is you’ll need strength to bring these visions into reality, but it won’t come from doing. It will come from being, from allowing yourself to rest in the uncertainty, go inwards when you feel afraid and then stay open, flexible. Soft. To reach for feeling is to go higher. These are all things I wish I’d known sooner.

There’s an argument among the spiritual that we must not engage with the feelings that hurt, not give them attention and leave the past where it belongs. In the past. I’ve found however, that I need to feel the feeling in order to release it, ideally in a safe space with a self-aware and nuturing mindset. My feeling is how I transmute the pain and rise stronger. To fight with weapons takes courage of course, but try facing the feelings of fear and abandonment alone in the dark, head on with a deep inner faith that the light lies on the other side. Even the strongest fall, but what matters is we rise again - softer, steadier, wiser. This is the kind of strength I’m learning to honour.

Keep fighting loves, not with brute strength but with your softness. You’re sure to have your vengeance this way…in this life or the next.

Lots of love

Jessica xxx

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