This past week the social media sphere saw an excessive amount of posts about women with the caption #IWD (International Women's Day). Moms, teachers, sisters, cousins, aunts, and friends were honored with a post and possibly a nice filter to make them look skinnier. This catalyzed a stirring of pride and reflection for me as I kept getting likes on my picture by people I barely know.

Everyone can relate to the idea that someone, somewhere, has changed their life. And, in that transformation, that someone nurtured a certain maturity in another. In some cases this is a subtle kind of maturity in which one grows up and learns about people and life -how to tie your shows and open a bank account- but in some cases, this maturity is the foundation that is necessary and strong enough to support a person as they grow.

I feel grateful to have many influences of the former nature: friends, teachers, family, and even public figures. But I wrote a poem for a few crucial people who I like to say "have taught me how to be big". I say 'big' meaning the opposite of small to illustrate the growth that these people have facilitated in me.

It is because of these few that I have known myself and the world in order to strive to contribute to both of these things in the best way I possibly can. These people have given me a desire to pass on this growth to others that are still small as well which allows me to be more understanding and compassionate.

International Women's Day was the day I realized how many of these people (not all) are women, and how grateful I am for those relationships.

So, enough about me.... Here's a poem about how people become big.

If I told you I was once a tiny patch of flimsy flowers,

I would have to tell you about the big patch of flowers

that tumbled into my garden one elastic spring day.

I would have to tell you this because I was dreadfully unprepared

to survive being big,

until big rooted itself right next to me.