When Girls Are Seen, We All Begin to Heal

May 17

Hey, Collective,

The room was already buzzing.
Over 200 seventh-grade girls from the School District of Lancaster had filled Millersville University’s Ware Center with laughter, side conversations, and quiet nerves. Then Ms. Vondol Hammond, founder of the Teenage Girls Empowerment Summit (TGES), said Emma’s name—and her age.

“She’s only 10?!”

The volume swelled. Emma and I locked eyes.
She gave me that look, the one that carries both nervousness and excitement in the same breath. We had talked about it earlier:

“I’m nervous,” she said. “But I’m more excited.”

And then… we walked on stage.

What happened next was something I’ll hold for the rest of my life.

Photo courtesy of Brian Nguyen, Communications Specialist, School District of Lancaster

There are rare moments when you feel something shift, not metaphorically, but viscerally. In your body. In your bones.
This was one of those moments.

The clapping turned into cheering. The cheering turned into roaring.
These girls, all of them strangers to Emma, offered her the kind of loud, wholehearted affirmation I believe every child deserves to experience at least once.

We were there for our first live podcast keynote, but the girls didn’t just show up—they filled the space.
With presence.
With possibility.
With the kind of energy that calls something forward you forgot was still alive.

And we were paying attention.

Emma began to speak—carefully at first, then with bold confidence, and eventually like someone who had been preparing for this moment her entire life.

And maybe… she had.

We weren’t just there to speak. We were there to co-create something sacred: A space where joy, voice, and truth could live out loud.

It wasn’t just a keynote.
It was collective truth-telling.
It was a mirror.
A movement.
A beginning.

The Power of Discovery

What do you do when someone tries to name you with a word that was never yours to carry? What happens when a child decides that shame will stop with her?

We told that story on stage.

Emma shared how, in first grade, a boy called her “darkie.”
How she came home and told me.
How we met with the counselor, the teacher, and the principal.
And how, when asked how it made her feel, she said:

“I have beautiful brown skin. And I have beautiful hair.”

She said it with certainty.
And the room responded, not just with applause but with collective recognition.
They weren’t just hearing her. They were witnessing her.

That moment echoed through the space like a truth too long held in silence.
It reminded me: healing doesn’t always begin in private.
Sometimes it begins in community.

Photo courtesy of Brian Nguyen, Communications Specialist, School District of Lancaster

Discovery reminds us: the stories we’ve buried still hold wisdom.
It invites us to unearth what shaped us, without letting it define us.
To say: This happened… and I still get to decide who I am.

Emma said:

“People shouldn’t feel bad about themselves. They should feel like they’re amazing.”

And maybe that’s where healing begins.
Not with forgetting the harm, but with reclaiming the truth.
With saying it out loud.
With being seen.

Discovery Curiosities:

What did I once believe about myself that wasn’t true?
When did I stop dreaming, and what helped me return to it?
What dream am I still holding close?
What do I imagine becoming, if nothing held me back?

The Power of Discernment

What do you do when the voices in your head say you’re not good enough? What do you say to the part of you that still doubts, even when you have the evidence?

We asked those questions on stage. And the girls answered loudly, clearly, and collectively.

Emma shared that even after winning first-place art awards twice, she still wonders if she’s a good enough artist.

And I admitted that, even now, I sometimes hear the voice that says:

“Who do you think you are?”

But discernment reminds us: not every voice is worthy of our belief.
Some voices must be unlearned.
Some truths must be reclaimed.
And the people around us (those who cheer, affirm, and reflect our light back to us) can become the mirrors we need to remember who we are.

Discernment Curiosities:

What keeps me connected to my imagination in hard seasons?
What voices feed doubt, and which ones reflect truth?
When have I released a dream that no longer fit me?
How do I tell the difference between support and control?
What helps me follow the right dream when I have many?

The Power of Determination

What do you do when the fear is loud, but the dream is louder?
What does it mean to rise, even when your voice is still trembling?

That’s what determination looks like.
Not fearlessness. But faith in motion.

Emma didn’t wait to feel ready.
She got up anyway.
She told the truth.
And when the affirmations started, when the girls in that room shouted her words back with full-bodied joy, something shifted.

That was the moment the room shook.
Not just from the sound, but from the recognition.

These girls weren’t just repeating words.
They were reclaiming themselves.
They were choosing belief as a form of resistance.
As a sacred act of becoming.

Determination reminds us:
You don’t have to have it all figured out.
You just have to say yes to the next right step.
And sometimes, the thing that steadies your voice is hearing it reflected back to you.

Because movement builds confidence.
Because witnessing builds courage.
And because freedom dreaming isn’t about being perfect, it’s about choosing yourself again and again.

Even when you’re only 10.
Even when you’re scared.
Even when the world hasn’t caught up to the truth you already carry.

Determination Curiosities:

What do I tell myself when it’s hard, but the dream still matters?
What dream am I holding onto, even if it hasn’t come true yet?
If my dream could shift the world, what would that look like?
What does anticipation feel like in my body when a dream is within reach?
What would I create if I wasn’t afraid of hearing “no?”

Your Invitation

Let your voice catch up to the version of you that already knows:
You are powerful. You are becoming. You are the dream.

Let the truth you’ve been carrying rise to the surface.
Let it speak in your own words, in your own timing.
Let it be small if it needs to be, but let it be yours.

Emma walked onto that stage nervous, but not alone.
She carried every girl who had ever felt invisible.
She reminded us that courage doesn’t always roar.
Sometimes it’s a steady voice and a shaky breath saying:

“If you have an idea, do it. And if you have more, do it.” —Emma, age 10

This weekend, carry the rhythm of that room with you:

Be the girl who cheered like every word was meant for her.
Be the one who stood tall and said, “I am a miracle.”
Let her lead.

Emma’s words weren’t rehearsed.
They were remembered.
And that’s the work of becoming.

Emma’s Final (Chicken) Nugget of Wisdom: “Be yourself.”

No disclaimers. No conditions. Just truth.

Let this weekend be your soft return to that truth:
You’re already becoming.
You’re already enough.

If this reflection stirred something within you, I invite you to subscribe to my Substack for weekly roundups every Saturday and early access to new episode of the Living in 3D Power podcast each Wednesday.

Suggest Podcast Questions

And if you haven’t already, listen (or re-listen) to Episode 18 of Living in 3D Power on The Freedom to Dream: What Would it Look Like to Dream Without Limits? Then send it to someone who believes in your dreams, even the ones you haven’t named out loud yet.

Together, let’s keep building spaces where youth voice is honored, dreams are protected, and truth is allowed to rise, unpolished and whole.

And if you’re a courageous leader ready to move beyond performative empowerment and into the real work of making space for the next generation to lead, let’s connect.

You don’t have to have the whole plan.
You just have to make room—and begin.

In solidarity, action, and love,

Amber (and Emma)

Stay Connected

AMBER SESSOMS