Meet My Tiny Warrior

I’m only a tiny warrior.

Not small in body, but small in voice, in readers, in life.

But this tiny warrior wants to speak up about the rights of all of us.

Not just the ones that look the same.

Not just the ones who worship the same.

Not just the ones who believe in 1 penis + 1 vagina = Marriage.

This tiny warrior shakes. She’s nervous. She doesn’t do well with conflict.

She doesn’t want people to be mad at her or yell.

She loves calm after years of her nervous system feeling under attack.

But she has a voice and a belief that IF WE ARE ON THIS PLANET WE DESERVE TO FEEL SAFE.

That Othering of people, making them Less Than by believing they don’t deserve the same right to a decent life as we do–she knows with her whole heart THAT IS BULL. (Yes she cusses.)

We have different histories that belong to our races, our families, our countries.

We are individuals, even within that one race or belief system or family.

My tiny warrior sees that we are all humans sharing a planet–and that here, in the allegedly “United States of America” we are shit at sharing. I mean seriously, I was better at sharing in Kindergarten.

This country was built on the concept to be free to be different than our neighbor: the freedom to worship differently, the freedom to feel safe in our homes. BUT we don’t want to share those rights equally–you get the irony in that don’t you, my Tiny Warrior?

I’m a straight white lady. It’s how I was born. Does that mean I believe for a teensy second that only other straight white ladies should be given the same rights to love, to live, to have access to healthcare? NO.

I am attracted to men. Does that mean I should decide who every other human loves, otherwise they are wrong? NO.

I grew up going to a Baptist Church. Does that mean I should decide that if you go to an Episcopalian Church or are Muslim you are wrong? NO.

My identity was under attack for the 37+ years of my marriage–being told I was someone I was not, trying to drag me down to a state of worthlessness by making me Less Than. Does it make an iota of sense for me to call someone less than because they don’t identify just exactly like me? HELL NO.

People in this country have decided that for the next 4 years “freedom” means “freedom for me but not for you.” “Freedom for my beliefs, but not for yours.”

This state of the United States was driven by many who claim the name of Jesus. The Jesus I know didn’t “Other”, he didn’t make those he met who weren’t exactly like him “Less Than”s. He loved, he accepted, he shared his message.

I don’t remember reading the part where he threatened to take away their healthcare, or send them back to their countries (I mean, how many countries are we from anyway? My background shows half a dozen!)

My tiny warrior doesn’t want to be just like anybody else. She doesn’t want to be pushed into any one particular mold of someone else’s choosing. Do you?

She just wants to be seen and heard and cherished for her uniqueness, her lousy sense of humor, her heart, and all she’s learned on her own individual journey. She doesn’t want to be forced to believe, love, dress, put up with, the same stuff someone else is willing to in order to be a part of the mainstream.

She wants that for other people too.

And silly girl, she believed that’s what this country was built on.

But then, she believes that “love your neighbor as yourself” means what it says, not “love your neighbor IF..” followed by a detailed list that describes, well, YOU.

My tiny warrior wants to be the unique being created by my Creator.

Don’t you?