WOMEN: My Support System

When I was a child, I was fascinated with female heroines: Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman, Xenia Warrior Princess, The Pink Power Ranger, and Sabrina the Teenage Witch. Intellect, strength, power, and mysticism moved me. I wanted to be just like them.

As I grew older, my role models shifted from fictional characters to real people who I knew from the screen: Oprah Winfrey, Hillary Clinton, Emma Watson, and Lady Gaga. Leadership, empowerment, advocacy, and art attracted me. I wanted to be just like them.

As I grew even older, women mentors finally became real in the form of teachers, coaches, and friends. These women beautifully embodied the intellect, strength, power, and mysticism that I wanted. These women modeled leadership, empowerment, advocacy, and artistry. Through them I began to understand not just that I could become who I wanted, but also how to become who I wanted. 

I was raised in a family where women were treated as second class citizens. My mother was under strict authority to be who my father needed her to be. She worked at home or for him, endured his verbal and sexual abuse, and defended him when I challenged his destructive  parenting and lifestyle choices. Her identity, profession, and purpose were deeply intertwined with his. I wholeheartedly believe that she did the best she could with the internal and external resources available to her. She too had been raised in an abusive system, so like her I learned to deeply repress my voice, my instincts, and my power in order to survive the oppressive system. Unlike her, however, I learned first and foremost to be independent from a man so that I would never have to endure this abuse again. I was bound to this family system. All I wanted was out. But how? My many women showed me the way: 

My first grade teacher applauded my voice. When the boys mistreated me, I would stand up for myself. She encouraged me to continue to do so until they started treating me better.

My third grade teacher loved me unconditionally. I used to write her letters at the bottom of my homework and she would write return notes of appropriate and reciprocated care. 

My high school religion teacher taught me to be subversive. She was an outspoken feminist in a very conservative Catholic school. Once a male classmate said something mean to me and she made him stand up in front of the entire class and recite a kind word or phrase to every single person in the class. He said something mean to me again and she made him come to my varsity water polo weights training- where he quickly threw up. He didn't work out much. She showed him my power compared to his weakness. Needless to say, he shut up after that second round of embarrassment. 

My choral teacher in college taught me patience and gentleness. I was new to singing publicly and she encouraged me to face my fear, develop my natural skill, and have patience with the learning process. 

My employer in graduate school taught me confidence and balance in leadership. She welcomed me into her home to help raise her children: three girls and a boy. She helped me to understand that I belonged to a family where women were strong, confident, and playful; where women could contribute to bettering the world and enjoy it simultaneously. Eventually, she became a mother figure. I lived under her roof during my first career transition, I'm living under her roof now during my second. 

My friends, my female friends. There's so much to say here and yet I'm at a loss for words. This must be the mysticism I was speaking of: unconditional commitment, predictable patience,  dedicated delight- they have been my foundation while I have built a new one. They have held me up and caught me when I have fallen, challenged my weaknesses, amplified my strengths. They have been my greatest teachers, my constant companions, my many models of patience, pleasure, fortitude, and faith. 

As I prepare to celebrate Mother's Day, I write these words and I remember these women. These women who have transcended the patriarchy and pain of my upbringing, who have offered a counter culture to the prominent male toxicity that still runs much of society, who have helped me to become the woman I  today, my best self: a woman devoted to the constant pursuit of intellect, strength, power, and mysticism. A woman bound for leadership, empowerment, advocacy, and artistry. They have freed me.

As I prepare to celebrate Mother's Day, I also want to celebrate my birth mother and all women trying their best to find their way out of violent systems. I still hope for her freedom, for the freedom of all women still fighting the psychological, political, and economic battles that keep them bound to abusive environments. I pray that they too will find their women, and other necessary resources, to lead them out. I hope to be one of these women. Let me know how I can help.