Do not define our intelligence by a letter on a piece of paper.
Define our intelligence by the conversations we have at midnight under moonlight, the poems we write, the art we put out into this world.
Do not define our success by a number in a bank account.
Define our success by how many hearts we have touched, how many mountains we have climbed, how many times we look at the sky in the middle of a regular Tuesday and smile at the sun.
Do not define our beauty by our exterior.
Define our beauty by our grace, our kindness when no one is watching, the sparkle in our eyes when we are beaming with relentless passion.
Do not define our happiness by our belongings.
Define our happiness by the amount of dishes in the sink because we were too busy making love, by our coffee-stained sheets, the mud on our cars after a weekend in the backcountry. Define our happiness by the wrinkles beside our eyes that have taken rest from smile after smile in August warmth.
Do not define our wholeness by wedding bands on our fingers.
Define our wholeness by the footprints we leave on the ground each day—one dirty foot after the other—walking toward sunlight, healing, and a better future.
Grab the textbook with the definition of everything conventional we have been told to define ourselves by, and throw it into the f*cking fire.