My favorite corner of the internet is the NYTimes Tiny Love Stories: Modern Love in Miniature. In 100 words or fewer, individuals from all over the world detail their love: heartbreaks or romances, friendships or losses, growth and discovery. As a feminist, I especially love reading the personal stories of women – sometimes seeking inner peace, experiencing infertility, caring for family members, or balancing motherhood. In just 100 words, writers connect to readers and often wet stuff falls out of my eyes.

There’s a million different feelings and thoughts you may be having this Valentine’s Day. I’m not here to change them. But I would love to hear them! But, to make it more interesting, why not talk about these feelings in our own versions of Tiny Love Stories? Wouldn’t it be fun to hear the love stories of fellow Mormon feminists? When I took a stab at writing some I realized it really worked a creative side of my brain that was fun to use. Our stories may not be as polished as the ones that make it in the NYTimes. I don’t care if all our stories are specifically about feminism or Mormonism. Regardless, they’ll be our stories. And that’s worth hearing. 

I’ve written a few to get us started. Then in the comments below, I’d love to hear your stories. In 100 words or less, tell me about any relationship (romantic, familial, friendship, or even self-love). (And if you go over 100 words, no one’s counting! This is just for a fun Valentine’s activity to connect.) Don’t feel like writing one? Comment on other’s instead!

Here are my 3 tiny love stories about my relationships with each of my 3 daughters:

• “Don’t break her, don’t break her, don’t break her.” The mantra in my mind when I held your 5 pound 14 ounce body. Twig legs. Scrawny arms. I worried you’d snap. 24 hours later, we talked without words. You told me God sent you to me and you were too strong to be broken so easily: You’re Ruby. Those once twig legs motor your freestyle. Those once scrawny arms base your handstands. Most importantly, your whole-hearted adventuring personality allows me to relax knowing you won’t ever let anyone break you.

• Head scraped from the OBGYN’s attempt to break my water, and face red from the journey, you literally nuzzled your itty-bitty body onto my breast and figuratively nuzzled your itty-bitty heart into our family. Cute as you were, I couldn’t be happy. For a full year I felt a heavy fog weighing me down and wondered if this was what parenting was about. Thankfully, the postpartum depression subsided and 10 years later, I happily watch you explain to me the difference between “literally” and “figuratively” as learned in 4th grade.

• At nearly 3, you’ve got your opinions. “I’m Izzy!” you scream at us when we use your given name. You demand we write “Izzy,” but scream when we start it with “I.” “J” is your favorite letter. We don’t make you choose. You become “Jzzy.” But at nearly 3, you’re one of the crew. “Juni, time to brush teeth!” I hear Dad call to you while the big kids have friends over. You’re chomping popcorn unaware you’re so much younger. “I can’t,” you call back. “I’m busy watching a movie.” And at nearly 3, you’re exactly the kid we love.

Now, I’m excited to hear yours!