It’s a word, I checked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My grandmother. What an amazing strong intelligent woman. I attribute most of what is good about me to her. I was always a bit rough around the edges, and somehow she always knew just how to push to make me want to be better. Wanting someone to be proud of you is a powerful motivator. She was always very kind, I never heard her raise her voice or be unkind to anyone. Someone once asked me if I could spend 1 hour talking to anyone dead or alive who it would be. It would be her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My aunt. She was so funny. She was truly kind, and being truly kind in the face of unkindness takes strength. I used to think she was born kind but now I’m positive she chose to be kind. I often say things like, feelings don’t matter as much as we think they do, and people tend to look at me like I grew two extra heads. I know her feelings were not always that of being kind, she chose to be.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My mom. She is a badass. All the things that are feirce and courageous about me came from her. She is strong-minded and absolutely hilarious. Fearless and adventurous. I don’t think she sees rules. I don’t even think she sees guidelines. She only seems to see possibilities. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Amazing friends. Women who are shining lights. They have these truths they can’t contain. Strong, intelligent, brave, hilarious women. I love these women. They express who they are and how they feel. They exude their identities. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
— The fug.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
It’s a word, I checked. My grandmother. What an amazing strong intelligent woman. I attribute most of what is good about me to her. I was always a bit rough around the edges, and somehow she always knew just how to push to make me want to be better. Wanting someone to be proud of…Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3,1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-201","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-blog-posts","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.shacarah.com\/thefug\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/201"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.shacarah.com\/thefug\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.shacarah.com\/thefug\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.shacarah.com\/thefug\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.shacarah.com\/thefug\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=201"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.shacarah.com\/thefug\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/201\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":202,"href":"https:\/\/www.shacarah.com\/thefug\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/201\/revisions\/202"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.shacarah.com\/thefug\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=201"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.shacarah.com\/thefug\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=201"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.shacarah.com\/thefug\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=201"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}