Leeah Murray

Today I keep seeing women praised for their resilience.

And I understand why. Women across this world have endured abuse, oppression, violence, and generational harm, and somehow continued to move forward.

But if I’m being honest, I’m personally about one more compliment about my resilience away from throat-punching someone. Lately, I find myself dreaming of a world where resilience isn’t necessary. Isn’t even a word in our vocabulary or a concept that exists.

A world where girls never have to learn how to survive the people or systems that should have protected them. Where strength isn’t measured by how much pain someone can carry.

I often think about who women across this planet could have been if their energy had gone toward becoming instead of surviving.

What art might exist.
What discoveries might have been made.
What tenderness and brilliance we never got to see.
What community could look like.

I dream of a world shaped by all of that brilliance.

Sometimes I wonder what would be possible if the most powerful biological force on this planet, women, the creators of life itself, were able to fully direct that force toward building a world aligned with our highest and best expression.

Not one built from survival but from wisdom, creativity, care, and possibility.

My hope for the future isn’t stronger women. It’s a world gentle enough that resilience is no longer required. ❤️

I would be absolutely nothing without the women I’ve been so fortunate to walk through life with. 🙏❤️

Graphics by 🙏

👀 Decentering quotas, KPIs, and shareholder value like a mfer. 😂

Micro to Macro. Been traversing systemic trauma at multiple levels unfortunately. Patriarchal / Capitalists systems will do anything to preserve the worst among them. Selective Truth. Procedural theater. No accountability. Blame shifting. If you’re questioning your reality right now, that’s the it intention and only hope. Your lived experience is valid.

When people say “not all men,” the only way that statement has meaning is if it becomes action toward other men.

Not toward women.
Not toward survivors.
Not toward people already harmed.

But laterally and upward.

Calling out.
Setting boundaries.
Refusing silence.
Breaking ranks.
Risking social comfort.

That’s what embodiment looks like. If it’s “not all men,” then which men are willing to stand between harm and power?

Because historically, systems don’t fall when the oppressed speak. They fall when the protected stop protecting.