This is not a question I would have asked of myself, but someone asked it of me and I was intrigued, so I answered. What does it mean to be a woman?
Eve. Cleopatra. Jezebel. Mary of Magdalene. A mother. Iconic Women. It seems like such a big question to answer. Does she have kids? If she wants to have them. Is she married? If she chooses to be, or not. Is she loved? Let’s hope so. It’s not just about biology. XY chromosomes. Check. Is that what makes a woman? A certain age? You decide. Hint: It’s not fifteen. The question I think was meant as “woman” as opposed to “man,” but I also thought of it as “woman” as opposed to “child.”
I’ve finally reached that age in life where I can’t think of myself any other way, whether I like it or not. Woman, not child, certainly not man. Experienced, someone whose seen ups and downs in life and has faced both. I’d love to say, fearless, but that wouldn’t be true. Afraid sometimes, but a woman walks forward anyway. Perhaps a sense of confidence that whatever she faces can be looked at, confronted, examined, and taken care of.
A woman has fallen but she gets up. She cares for herself and others. There are times when both are necessary, and maybe not at the same time. A woman has a tribe, a tribe of other woman, and men, and children who adore her, who respect her, who honor her, and who want to see her succeed. A tribe who will stand with her when she falls, and reaches out a hand to help her up, a tribe who will hold her up when need be.
A woman has been hurt, has been broken, has been happy, and angry. A woman walks her own path to success, even though sometimes the path is lonely, maybe especially when the path is lonely. Yes, she knows how to ask for help. If you say, “I am a woman.” You have to own that power. It’s not for the faint of heart. That’s warrior talk. A warrior, a woman isn’t always loud. Sometimes the strongest ones are the quietest. Shhh. Listen. She’s there.
A woman loves. She is loved.
What does it mean to you?