Elaine Welteroth Quotes

when the world tells you to shrink, expand.

When your dreams are bigger than the places you find yourself in, sometimes you need to seek out your own reminders that there is more. And there is always more waiting for you on the other side of fear.

There is no glory in a grind that literally grinds you down to dust.

If you know what you want, ask for it. And be specific you just might get it.

We don’t prioritize our time with ourselves. We rarely set aside moments to be still, to access our center. And the bottom line is, when we don’t focus on our inner light, it dims.

Sometimes just being yourself is the radical act. When you occupy space in systems that weren't built for you, your authenticity is activism

I realized that if we aren't vigilant, we can move through our entire lives feeling smaller than we actually are—by playing it safe, by unconsciously giving away our power, by dimming our radiance, by not recognizing there is always so much more waiting for us on the other side of fear.

What I know now is that when we derive our worth from the relationships in our lives—the intimate ones, the social circles we belong to, the companies we work for—we give away our power and become dependent upon external validation. When that is taken away, our sense of value, and identity, goes with it.

There is power in speaking your dreams into existence.

When the music changes, so must your dance. It was the most beautifully worded truth, a profound lesson reminding me to trust my instincts, to let life guide me, and to never stay anywhere doing the same thing longer than I was supposed to.

When the topic of self-care came up, Eve, an academic, writer and visual artist said "There is no glory in a grind that literally grinds you down to dust".

As a culture, we love a celebration. We love a first. We hold them high. We all marvel at headlines and highlight reels. But we rarely discuss the marks and scars and bruises that come with breaking through glass ceilings.

Treat dating like gardening instead. Plant the most promising seeds. Water them all. Taste what each has to offer. And when you find one that produces fruit you could eat every single day, give a little more love to it and start pruning the rest.

Discovering what you don’t want is just as important as finding out what you do.

Friends. Sisters. Mothers. Professors. When women affirm women, it unlocks our power. It gives us permission to shine brighter.

What is not for you can never be for you. No amount of sheer will or work, no amount of bending or shape-shifting will make it so. No act or effort, no apology, no amount of therapy or prayer or repetition, no self-help, no distraction, no matter how hard you try, you can never force anything that isn’t meant to be.

When the music changes, so must your dance

Women aren't taught to get comfortable with making people uncomfortable.

You can't be a part of the solution if you don't recognize how you are a part of the problem

If you ever find yourself walking on eggshells and contorting yourself into ill-fitting ensembles just to prove yourself in a relationship, run.

The world doesn't prepare girls - especially little brown girls- to see the bigness of their dreams. It doesn't train us to embrace the expansiveness of our own possibilities.

This is for anyone in your dream job facing perils no one talks about. You are not alone. When you exist in spaces that weren’t built for you, remember sometimes that just being you is the revolution.

Our lives are a series of dreams realized. We don’t say that enough.

We spend so much of our twenties searching. For ourselves. For our soul mates. For success. For the illusion of security.

Instead, we are taught in subtle and overt ways to give up our power, to take what we can get, and to be grateful.

Our lives are a series of dreams realized. We don't say that enough... The truth is, job titles are temporary but purpose is infinite.

Women are taught to work hard and to play by the rules. WE are taught to never overstep, to stay in our lane, to keep our head down, to go with the flow, to never be too loud or disagreeable. Not to be bossy. Not to be pushy. We are not encouraged to know our worth, let alone to demand it. We arent give the tools to fight for ourselves or taught to challenge authority.

I realized that if we aren’t vigilant, we can move through our entire lives feeling smaller than we actually are—by playing it safe, by unconsciously giving away our power, by dimming our radiance, by not recognizing there is always so much more waiting for us on the other side of fear.

M. Foss had advised me once to treat dating like gardening instead. Plant the most promising seeds. Water them all. Taste what each has to offer. And when you find one that produces fruit you could eat every single day, give a little more love to it and start pruning the rest... But the important thing to remember is that it's your garden. Nothing good can grow if you don't nourish your own soil. And only you can decide when to stop feeding dead things.

We fell into a different kind of love. One that was sturdier, safer, and more like home than anything I'd ever experienced.

The truth is, job titles are temporary. But purpose is infinite.

As a culture, we love a celebration. We love a first. We hold them high. We all marvel at headlines and highlight reels. But we rarely discuss the marks and scars that bruises that come with breaking through glass ceilings

There is a divine order, a divine flow to our lives. We don't need to have all the answers. But our job is to keep on dreaming and trusting enough to put one foot in front of the other. To keep moving forward. To keep pushing beyond whatever feels confining. To keep searching for where the magic is.

So seeing our full potential isn’t work we can do alone. We need the other women in our tribe. Friends. Sisters. Mothers. Professors. When women affirm women, it unlocks our power. It gives us permission to shine brighter. I am forever grateful for that fateful moment in the sky with these women who saw the bigness of the possibilities in front of me before I could see them

To this day, I am embarrassed to admit that I still deeply struggle with get-yo-ass-up syndrome. At least back then, my dad was still down to be my human alarm clock. When all other tactics failed to get the job done- tickling me, pulling the covers off of my virtually comatose body, shouting- my dad made up a wake-up song that he sang to me nearly every morning for sixteen years: "Lainey Flainey, give me your answer true. I'm half crazy over the likes of you." He'd saunter into my room and sit on the edge of my bed, tap, tap, tapping my tiny body to the beat until I finally woke up. Looking back, it was the most loving, patient act of parenting in the universe. Of course, at the time, it was simply annoying as hell. "And we're off like a herd of turtles!" he'd say. Every. Single. Day.

Amanda opened up about how unhappy she was in her seemingly solid, long-term relationship. She described the kind of partnership she really wanted and how badly she desired to be married within a year and to start a family—a big family—with the right person. She was debating sticking it out or cutting it off to start over, but the idea of being single all over again was daunting. She felt like she was running out of time.

But like a shadow, shame follows wherever you go. Until you make peace with it. Over time I’ve learned to accept and even appreciate this part of my story. What I discovered is that my dad is beautifully flawed just like the rest of us, and his struggles played an important role in making me who I am. And I’ve learned to love who I am. Even if certain parts were forged by fire. Sometimes the things that hurt the most propel you the farthest.

When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.

I felt electrified. Like there was actual magic coursing through my veins. I was finally waking up to my own possibilities, and to a deeper realization of the power of vision and faith—two of the most important tools I would need on my journey. For the first time, I understood that the bigness of my life would be determined not only by the bigness of my dreams, but also by my capacity to trust that there is a Higher Power who would always take those dreams and multiply them.

This was a reminder that there is a divine order, a divine flow to our lives. We don’t need to have all the answers. But our job is to keep on dreaming and trusting enough to put one foot in front of the other. To keep moving forward. To keep pushing beyond whatever feels confining. To keep searching for where the magic is. To continue expanding, staying open to being stretched. And allowing room to be completely awed by how much better it gets along the way.

I realized that if we aren’t vigilant, we can move through our entire lives feeling smaller than we actually are—by playing it safe, by unconsciously giving away our power, by dimming our radiance, by not recognizing there is always so much more waiting for us on the other side of fear. But when we are brave enough—to go there, to grab what we want, to tap into who we are—damn, it feels so good.

What I know now is that when we derive our worth from the relationships in our lives - the intimate ones, the social circles we belong to, the companies we work for - we give away our power and become dependent upon external validation. When that is taken away, our sense of value and identity goes with it.

Every day we curl over our phones, endlessly scrolling, falling deep into comparison traps, searching for superficial forms of validation in likes, mentions, and follows.

The magazine industry was just a first stop - not ap lace you stay forever. Take it as far as you can, and when the time comes, jump. And by then, be ready to fly.

If you have to go through ensembles just to prove yourself in a relatiosnhip, run. Fast. And do not look back.

The point was to become unbreakable. My mother's words were the warning shot that fairness, justice, and security are not guaranteed to any of us. No matter how hard we work. Especially for women of color.

I routinely had to put myself in someone else's shoes; I had to understand things about beauty that would never pertain to my own experience