I’ve been reading about some truly beautiful role models over at Mum C’s blog. It is so uplifting to read about courageous young women, and their hopes and dreams.
As life goes by, we can forget about dreams and aspirations, just trying to pay the bills and raising kids and keeping all the juggled balls in the air.
But dreams keep us alive! They give us something to live for.
We as women have so much to offer this world. Compassion, empathy, nurturing and just a femininity that we can truly own.
So I endeavor to own it, dream on and live big. Because I can!
Female Role Models: Salamatu Musah Salifu
The older I get, the more I realize how we ladies need strong, supportive women in our lives. I loved my mother-in-law, and after I moved to Sydney, I was ‘adopted’ by my church mother, a wonderful older supportive woman who has since moved away. I miss them both, but very glad for the supportive nurturing love they gave to me.
I am thankful for the strong, kind women I have befriended here on WordPress, and also in my daily life I am focusing on my female friendships. We can bring so much to each other’s lives, all for the better, and we need each other.
Wishing you all a wonderful Mother’s Day! Xx
With a flourish of his well-manicured hand and surrounded by the faces of his well-appointed legions of support, he made decisions regarding the wombs of millions of impoverished women, who every day are at the mercy of their birth circumstances, not having the physical power to resist or shout NO when they have not been granted their right, and when he went to sleep at night, drunk with power, he congratulated himself on a job well done.
I went to a single-sex school with all of our teachers being female. I studied a predominantly male course, but all my peers were very respectful towards me. I was never treated like an object. I started work, and the same applied. Perhaps I had very strong boundaries that helped. I would not have tolerated anything less. I dressed modestly, and perhaps my conservativism showed.
Until I reached my mid-thirties, and my babies were born. Something changed. I had a monster of all crushes on someone close by, and knew my conservative attire would not turn any heads. And especially not his. I wanted attention! So I did what I could do. Aka Sandy in Grease. I changed my style. I started wearing more low cut tops. More tight-fitting jeans. And I started to see a reaction. I started getting attention. It was an attention I had never really experienced before. And it felt good. It fed my flesh. I wanted more. The outward appearance started to count. And with it the objectification. I received the attention I wanted. A paradigm-shift happened. Men would wink as they passed by. I started accepting compliments based on my outward appearance. I started lowering my standards. Accepting bad behavior.
All these things came up for me when I heard Michelle Obama, and her watershed speech this past week. I am not an object. My daughter is not an object. Women are not objects. I don’t have a vote in the US elections. But I do have a vote in my own life. I can vote when I hear how perfect my ‘ass’ is in that red dress. When I am objectified. I don’t have to smile and say thank you. I can call it out for what it is. And I can say No.
Sometimes we girls need friends. Some girl power to lift us up, and remind us we are loved. Today I spent a couple of hours with one of my girlfriends. I arrived with a sore heart. Only to find that it was uplifted and encouraged. We enjoyed the sun, the scenery, the coffee, the lunch, the company, each other, and celebrating the fact that we are girls. No, not girls. We are Women. Mothers. Wives. Friends.
We are passionate. And we are awesome. 🙂
For every wrong thing you did
For every unkind word
I made an excuse
It took awhile for me
I really do
Love myself more