By Elizabeth Neal 
As my sisters laid their hands on their hearts with their eyes shut, lips closed, but silent intentions loud, pure, and felt, I connected with the little girl I was.
She felt alone. And as she aged, loneliness would become her greatest fear. She sought, with such profound yearning, connection—to be loved, seen, and heard. Her SOS signal, time and time again, was met with echoing silence. Oh, how she hated the silence.
So she found connection with the trees. The sounds of the birds. The crashing waves. The crunching of the leaves. They settled her aching heart.
She felt held in nature. She felt pure. She felt lovable. She felt the wonder and magic of the world around her. It felt so full, expansive, and intricately connected, unlike the emptiness and solitude she felt. Oh, how she ached to be held and seen.
She walked through life, year after year, believing she would be alone. It spread in her heart and soul like a fungus, rotting any chance of hope she’d feel unconditionally loved, accepted, and seen.
She desperately sought this connection in dangerous people.
People who would crush her spirit. Her sense of self-worth. Her sense of hope. Oh, how it crushed her.
Sometimes, she had glimmers of hope. But eventually, time and time again, that hope would wither. The emptiness ate away at the hope until acceptance eventually crept in.
She would not be loved. She would not be seen. She would not be held. She would not feel that connection she so achingly longed for.
Until she did.
But even then, she was skeptical. Would this love fade like the last?
But no, darling child. This love would be here to stay.
She learned the depth of her ache only increased her capacity for love. For connection.
And on the day she felt in her soul she had found her sisterhood, the lock to her aching heart opened.
And, oh, how she wept. She wept for the girl who had accepted unconditional love would never arrive at her door. Until it did.
As her sisters, bound by soul connection, set their silent intentions on a gift they would all share so they’d always be connected, no matter the distance, she was flooded with overwhelming gratitude, relief, and joy. She had found the thing that felt unattainable. She found her people. Her soul sisters.
With them, she felt nourished. Peaceful. Held. Unstoppable.
She was loved as she was for who she was. Nothing more, nothing less. She could just be and receive love. Oh, how she wept to just be and receive.
She felt the power of sisterhood. The power of connection. The power of radical love. The power of radical acceptance and belonging.
She felt safe. It was finally safe to let go. To let go of the belief that she would walk in this world alone, untethered. But a new chord emerged. A chord that cherished the sanctity of sisterhood—and it would start a new belief for generations to come in her family line.
She felt free. She was finally free.
Receive, receive, little girl. Receive. You are loved. You are seen. You are heard. You belong. Oh, do you belong.
by Leanne Willen 
by Rebekah Warren 
by Lisa Leshaw 
