God's Daughter coming through.

I don't know what came over me this week. I am reading a book about grief, focusing on long term grief for my own healing and eventually , for my work.
I sat on the living room floor every day, waiting , hanging out with my belly. Softening .
I thought for sure tears would come. Or at least a bit of melancholy overload.
No, not me!
My glare- the one I had in fourth grade when a mean girl did something, well, mean to someone else- couldn't be wiped off my face.
So I sighed more.
Sat and softened my belly more.
I took a couple of yoga classes. Is it just me or are some people that oblivious to their neighbor that no matter where I moved on my mat, the woman next to me just would not budge. Her fingers inches from my eyes, her foot  directly in my face, she just took no notice of my sliding forward on my mat, moving it back, moving it away, standing further forward- anything to be sure I wasn't poking her or moving into her space. A lady in another class,  to my diagonal right,  gave me sly stares pretending not to notice my prosthesis( I am always happy to be up front about it)  then wincing when I gave her the biggest warmest heart soaked smile in return.
It took a few days, but I got it. Grief takes many forms.
There is a kind of grief in being the one who tends to make room for everybody else and still try to maintain her own status quo. It can be exhausting. A girl can have nasty thoughts about what she really thinks about the woman who won't make space for her.
That's the loss.
How many times in your own life has a person made no space for you and you just "did the right thing"?
My motto for this week?
 "You move this time. YOU make space for me. God's daughter coming through."