Some people would see that as something to hide or feel embarrassed about. I see it as proof that I'm actually living, actually showing up for my responsibilities. 👐

When you grow up in a place where things don't happen by themselves, you learn that work isn't something to avoid or rush through so you can get to "real life." The work is the real life. My day starts before sunrise because animals need tending. My hands do things that need doing. My back knows how to bend and carry. This is what it means to be a woman in a place like this. 💪

I think about girls who treat work like it's punishment, who complain about helping at home like it's beneath them somehow. They don't understand that the work is what teaches you who you are. When you care for something—a garden, animals, a household—you learn responsibility. You learn that care has to be consistent, that you can't just show up when you feel like it. Life depends on you doing the work even when you don't feel like it. 🌾

There's something spiritual about it that I don't have words for exactly. When I'm working—really working, not just going through motions—I feel connected to something bigger. To all the women who did this work before me, to the seasons and the earth, to what actually matters. Is it strange to feel closer to God when my hands are dirty and my back hurts than when I'm sitting in church? 🌟