Holy Liberation: Julia Fehrenbacher

Holy Liberation
by Julia Fehrenbacher

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I will declare it out loud—decidedly,
mightily, quietly, steadily, with the kind of fire
that burns through all
but the truest things.

I will howl it to the wild midnight
moon. I will say it silently
to the darkest part of night.

I
am
enough.

I will gather up the flame, the fury,
every fear and fallen warrior, the tiny, afraid,
trying-to-be-good girl
who kept getting knocked down
and forgot only her own legs
could lift her back up.

I will whisper to her in the night:

You are a warrior.
Look at how far you’ve come. You never
needed to be anything other.

I will tell her, over and over
again that I am ready to be, that I will forever
be her greatest believer. I will promise
her with my pinky.

With a fierceness
only liberation can muster, I will hush
each voice that makes me feel anything less
than beautiful.

I will declare, claim, reclaim
as many times as it take:

I
am
enough.

With a roar that quakes and shakes
the whole sleeping world awake,
I will stake my flag to the ground.

I will be a soldier for my own rising heart.

It will be the most epic
homecoming ever.