An intimate portrait of the invisible women who lift our lives with tenderness, strength, and shared silences.
By Lidia Roselló
HoyLunes – In January of this year, I lost my grandmother, that superwoman who held the family together against all odds. Surely this resonates with you as well: perhaps a grandmother, a mother, an aunt…
I am speaking of that female figure who serves as a pillar, even when she trembles inside. That woman who doesn’t need to raise her voice for everything to stay in place.
Since then, I think a lot about the women who have held me up throughout my life: my mother, my aunts, my cousin, my grandmother…
The ones who are there, even if unseen.
The ones who don’t need a marked date to ask how you are.
The ones who sense, without you saying a word, that something isn’t right.
I am not only talking about family, you know what I mean. I am talking about friends, readers, colleagues, those who arrived at key moments and stayed.
And the truth is, you don’t need an immense network to feel accompanied. Sometimes, all it takes is one great woman by your side. One who listens without judgment, who tells you “rest” instead of “toughen up.”
There are also those who have held me up without even knowing it. The ones who slipped into my novel, into my texts, into those lines I write when I can’t hold everything inside.
Because for me, writing is also a way of giving thanks, of naming them, of making them eternal.
This text is for them:
For those who were there when I didn’t know how to go on.
For those who made me laugh when I had no desire to.
And it is also for you, who are reading these lines.
If you have one of those women close to you who hold you up, tell her. Share these words so they know how important they are in your life.
Here, from the orange room, I send you a sincere hug. The women who hold me up don’t always make noise. But thanks to them, I am still here.
#hoylunes, #lidia_roselló,
