Who’s your rosie?

Living in a human body— with a human mind— comes with baggage.

We are a complex species, not always making the smartest or even the simplest choices. 

In the words of Michael Scott, one of my favorite fictional humans: “I’m going to make this way harder than it needs to be.”

I have struggled for many years with my humanness.

30 years ago I stopped eating meat. But, I danced with dairy for years. 

The lengths we humans will travel to deny and avoid are staggering.

Once I was strong enough to own who I am and stand tall in what I believe, I beat myself up for the years when I could not. 

I looked to friends and mentors for forgiveness and absolution. 

Turns out, these are gifts we give to ourselves. 

Except, not always...

On a lovely August day two years back, my brother took me to a farm animal sanctuary in the UK.

After mingling with volunteers and working on a project, I wandered off to a large field, drawn by the presence of a beautiful, red cow.  

The air shifted. My heart somehow lifted. I haven’t been the same since.

She was Rosie. We sat together.

I cried.

Of course, my ‘oldest child / lawyer’s daughter / female socialized in our patriarchal society’ internal dialogue kicked in: “Don’t force Rosie to be a part of your shit! Suck it up Hess!!”

But, somehow, this was different. As soon as those thoughts came, they went.

I’d never been able to truly lay down my guilt and sadness and shame about being human, about being so incredibly flawed.

Rosie listened. She, who had been for sale at a livestock auction 19 years before, bore witness.

She was a teacher, a healer, a philosophical guru. In her sweet and solid and knowing way, Rosie told me to simply: “Let it go”— just as clearly as I’m typing these words.  

Others had said the same to me. But, when it came from Rosie, I heard.

Rosie helped to heal something in me on that beautiful summer day.  

I wasn’t the same person after leaving that beautiful sanctuary.

I could have taken sadness from the experience.

Untold brilliant, kind, thoughtful, worthy individuals just like Rosie are brutally killed every day in the name of… I don’t even know anymore.

But, New Allison— the one Rosie helped cross that indiscernible line— didn’t carry that message home. 

New Allison picked up hope. And I still carry that hope today.

Because, of all the places in all the world I could have been on that day, I got to share that time with a truly incredible individual.  Someone who wasn’t even meant to survive. 

Someone who changed my life. 

Rosie lived 20 years on this Earth. In this flawed and broken world that sometimes— sometimes—gets it right.   

Let your shit go. 

*Rosie came home to FRIEND after being rescued by Marion (the sanctuary’s founder) in 1998. Her story is magic; Rosie was the matriarch of her herd. She died peacefully, surrounded by love, last year. Thank you, Rosie.

Watch more about Rosie and the bonds she shared with the humans in her life HERE.