It’s funny. To think of the damage caused by cultural norms and stereotypes.

Of course, there are the absolutely beautiful cultural narratives out there. Those that cherish and honour human life by holding it, by respecting it so beautifully that even the hardest of hearts must surely be touched by the story of it all.

I heard a story as beautiful, just the other day. My counsellor told it to me: how, in her culture, when a woman becomes pregnant, she becomes the queen. The whole tribe lavish her with love, care, and most importantly, perhaps…food.

This discussion came about after a lovely tender moment where she looked over at me, my bulging belly sweetly growing a perfect little gift, and offered to bake me something lovely to celebrate the occasion (that’s right, surprise, I’m fourteen weeks pregnant. And how lovely it is, to me. How lovely it is. xx)

But, I digress. Because although there are some absolutely beautiful cultural stories passed on by certain cultures in the world, other cultures do not even realise their own toxicity. (And when I say toxicity, what I mean is…truly, their cultural ideas are heartbreaking and damaging to individuals who do not fit into the selected story being told.)

There are some absolutely wonderful things to be said about the culture I was born into. But one arm of the narrative, an arm that destroyed any hope of me developing healthy self-esteem in my early years, was the idea that vulnerability and softness were somehow character flaws. I was mostly soft.

As it turns out, this soft part of me, this sensitivity, is my super power; a power that helps me soothe, and bring safety to those who need it. A power that helps me tap into the world of everything and nothing, and pull down the words and creativity needed for my writing to touch people in the way that it seems to.

But my culture called me ‘soft’. It told me to ‘harden up’, and it assumed that If I didn’t…then surely I must be broken, at worst. Naive at best. Never have I been these labels.

And if you are a deep and tender heart resonating with these words…never have you been these labels, either.

Always we’ve been perfect.

Just the way we are.

Think of the trillions of flowers, plants and trees out there. Some are soft. Some are hard, shrubs built to last in the wind and rain and hail. None of them judge each other for being ‘wrong’ in anyway. They simply exist.

And so do I.

So do we.

Photo by Brianna Martinez on

By brookecutler2

Liver of life, lover of everything. 💕

6 replies on “Soft”

Oh, Brooke, congratulations!!! What incredibly beautiful news!

My culture is much the same as yours. It was quite frightening to grow up shy, reclusive, and introverted in an extroverted world. The tears, oh the tears! But you’re so right; it is a super power. I love being a safe place for my babies, especially right now.

Good luck with pregnancy and I hope everything goes wonderfully!

Liked by 1 person

I know, Kat. You are a beautiful, lovely strength for them. And very likely many of the adults you know. That is a gift, for sure. 🥰

And thank you, my lovely Kat! So far so good! xx

Liked by 1 person

Congratulations!! Take care and I totally agree with the toxicity in certain norms. It’s suffocating. I wish people would be more open-minded than restrict themselves to such blind prejudices. Hugs…💜

Liked by 1 person

Thank you, sweet Shruba. ❤️ And, yes, I wish for that too. What a peaceful world it would be if there were more open minds in it. xx

Liked by 1 person

Just lovely. Another little piece among the tantalising snippets of your family life you have been generously sharing. I, like most, managed to grow the culturally required carapace. Authentic personal power that you refer to only came by risking the exposure of vulnerable softness – still a work in progress. Only then could the connectedness you express so clearly in your life start to manifest.

Liked by 1 person

Lovely to see you again, Keith! And yes. It seems such an odd thing: a culture that represses one of the very things that has the potential to connect us to the deeper aspects of ourselves, each other and our divinity. To favour cold, shallow interactions and to guide people to hide genuine emotion: if only more people knew how beautiful it felt to fully live. ❤️I’m the same as you. I still struggle to fully open up, for the fear of being kicked out of the pack, so to speak. We’ll get there, in the end. I am so so sure of that. 🙂✨


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s