Dearest Men,

I know you’ve been taught your value is in fixing things. Perhaps it’s also science. I love this, in almost all situations. However, there are certain places where I’d like you to leave me be. Listen. And enjoy my invitation to peak behind the logic of things.

I am a woman who enjoys the jungle of my emotions. I’ve become friends with the monkeys mocking me. And learned to laugh with them at the absurdity of my inner critic. The birds who sing to me at night, remind me of my longing. And yes, they never shut up. But I’ve lived BIG because of them. Maybe we can both learn to sleep to the sounds of birds.

The panther and I are in a romance. I understand why she may scare you. She growls and her claws are sharp. But she only strikes when genuinely threatened or she needs to eat. I am grateful to be a creature that stalks what she needs. I can rest because of her fierceness.

My tears are the rain that settles the dust and provides the water I need to drink. And when I bitch, which I will do, (although hopefully not about you,) that is the wind that blows away the smell of carrion. Most things in me do not die silently.

Anything truly wild can not be fixed or solved. The garbage? The light bulb? A financial problem? Yes. I love the landscapes you provide me to engage. You hold me like a piece of earth. But don’t forget sometimes it’s ok to just enjoy. Watch me unravel. Trust me.

Because this jungle is my home.