The day I found out that I was having a girl, I panicked.
For one thing, I had no idea how to raise a girl. I had been surrounded by men folk for the last 5 years.
But what also had me scared, was the fact that I knew how hard life was going to be for her.
I knew that the world would have opinions about how she should act, dress, speak, etc... and that she would struggle with how SHE felt she should act, dress, speak as well.
For one thing, I had no idea how to raise a girl. I had been surrounded by men folk for the last 5 years.
But what also had me scared, was the fact that I knew how hard life was going to be for her.
I knew that the world would have opinions about how she should act, dress, speak, etc... and that she would struggle with how SHE felt she should act, dress, speak as well.
For years (actually, up until this morning) I thought the word "feminist" was a bad word. Not because I don't believe in equality or that women are powerful creatures, but because I had bought into the lie that we should be gentle, quiet, and always pretty.
If you know me, you know that I am none of those things, but I thought I should be. Then the guilt would set in.
Growing up, my mom was vehemently against men. She loathed them, berated them, and emasculated them, all in the name of feminism. That was what I thought feminsim was and that was how men should be treated. Then, when when I married my husband, I thought that that was how I should treat men. That he should cater to my every whim because "I am woman, hear me roar."
You can imagine how well that went over.
Yeah, like a turd in a punch bowl.
Yeah, like a turd in a punch bowl.
So, I thought, "I need to fix this!" Then, I went in the complete opposite direction. I read every article I could about "being the wife that your husband wants" and "how to make your home a haven" and at some point, everything became about him, about me trying to please him in every way possible. Not that he asked for it, mind you. He's always along for the ride on Heather' crazy train, so he thought that I was happy. And I thought I was, too. And I was most of the time.
Now, here I sit with an almost 4 year old daughter. With no direction on how to be a woman myself, how am I supposed to teach her all of the wisdom that she'll need to take this world by storm and accomplish all of her goals?
I'm going to show her.
I'm going to show her that the same hands that change the oil are the same hands that wipe tears and hold my family close...
...that the home that I've spent years decorating and fussing with was created by me tearing up carpet, moving heavy furniture, and putting in hard work...
...that the lawn that is picture perfect most days was created by me sweating and getting filthy while mowing the lawn, trimming trees, and planting plants...
...that the decor in the house was created by me and my hands, not just something pretty that I bought at the store...
...that I can fix a clogged drain and put on makeup all in the same 10 minutes...
...That it's okay to cry and have completely irrational moments...
...That it's okay to have a hobby, even though some see it as selfish...
...That it's okay to walk away from a bad situation even though the world will tell her to stay and fix it...
...That it's okay to walk away from a bad situation even though the world will tell her to stay and fix it...
...That it's okay to not wear makeup everyday...
...That it's okay to have an opinion and not apologize for it...
...That it's okay to take time for herself to do what she enjoys...
And most importantly, that it's okay to be the kind of person she wants to be, whether it makes sense to anyone else or not.
I understand feminism now and it's a powerful stance.
I can do anything I put my mind to and I can do it all while looking pretty...
I can do anything I put my mind to and I can do it all while looking pretty...
...if I choose to.
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