I had just received this book – Home Body by Rupi Kaur, that my friend had sent me. Most of it resonates strongly with me, but I figured there’s one particular topic I need to write about.
During my teen years and the majority of my twenties, I hung out mostly with guys. I found men in my life stable and I found interactions with them so much easier, void of unnecessary drama, flakiness, and conversations about shallow topics. I was lucky enough to meet certain men I got (and still get) to call friends. Those people literally saved my life (more than once), carried me when I couldn’t walk and sat with me through some of the darkest hours of my life. I love them to the moon and back and that will never change.
However, early in my thirties, life took a bit of a turn. The disconnection between my guy friends and me started creeping in. It’s not that we didn’t care for or support each other any longer; we simply had a harder time understanding each other. I was at that phase in life where I was going through what I felt only a woman could understand. It’s things like what it’s like to be discriminated against at your job. What it’s like to be doing every single thing (or even more) a male colleague does but never getting the recognition. It’s that thing where society tells you are too loud. Or too quiet. Too old but not mature enough. Too liberal. Or not liberal enough. With an inappropriate sense of humor. Too extroverted. Too introverted. It was that phase of life when the anxiety started creeping in, telling me to be insecure – about my body, my relationship, the future itself.
Slowly, I started opening up to the women in my life. I started letting them in. Sharing. Caring. I started dropping my shell and got rewarded in so many unexpected ways. The way we lift each other up. The way we share some tough love. The way we always root for each other. The way we bring out the best in each other. The way we question our decisions, but still, trust each other that the final decision we make is right.
It took me a while to realize:
Women have this inherent ability to be strong while the world is trying to crush them.
This post goes to all the women who had been brave. To the women who had walked with me through the darkness and carried the light along the way. To the women who had let me cry on their shoulders until their shirts were soaking wet. To the women who told me I was beautiful. To the women who told me to go for that job that I wanted so badly but thought I wasn’t good enough for it. To the women who had sent chocolates (and books). To the ones who were rooting for me. To the women who listened. To the ones who brought beer. To the women who believed in me when I found it hard to believe in myself. Nothing can replace how you make me feel.