On Being A Woman

I’ve had 40 years of experience on the topic at hand, and there is still so much yet to learn.  I know that woman was divinely created by God to be a helpmate for man.  That is essentially where my understanding stops. 

From my earliest memory I recall that communication has always been vastly important to me.  Perhaps too much so.  Just ask any of my high school teachers who were constantly having to call me down for talking in class.  I love to talk- talk, talk, talk.  I think it’s what makes us who we are.  The ability to accurately and appropriately express our feelings is one of the traits which differentiates us from the male species.  Thank God for that!  If I had to go through life grunting, high fiving, smacking people on the butt, and saying “pull my finger” as forms of communication I’m pretty sure I would implode.  I love to analyze.  Love to introspect.  Love to talk.  I’m hoping you get the picture.

As a woman I am keenly aware of the importance and value of my friendships with other women.  There is really nothing quite like it.  You can be friends with a man, but men rarely want to “go there” in relationships.  You can sit with a girlfriend for hours and laugh, and cry, and hug, and lament about days gone by.  This level of friendship requires trust and a willingness to make yourself vulnerable and available to those around you.  If I had been born a man I’m pretty sure that these same characteristics would have earned me several pointed remarks and sessions of name calling.  Being branded a “sissy” would fall somewhere on the kind end of the spectrum.

Women have periods.  We have babies.  We can breastfeed.  All of these are things that men can never do, but I wonder if any of them would see this as a loss.  Periods?… yuck.  Childbirth?…. ouch.  Breastfeeding?… again with the “ouch”.  So, are we blessed  to get to experience these “beauties” of womanhood or is this really some big cosmic joke on us?  I think being a woman inherently comes with a strong threshold for pain.  Pain not only in the above mentioned “blessings” but pain in other areas of life as well. 

I know that many men would disagree, but I’d put a woman up against a man any day in the arena of pain.  I know from experience that when my husband comes down with a headcold he is generally bedridden for 2 days and the only words I can translate coming off his lips are, “I’m dying”.  A woman, on the other hand, can be sick and nursing a child (heck, GIVING BIRTH TO A CHILD for that matter) and still feed her children, clean her house, and do the grocery shopping.  Mothers aren’t allowed a sick day.  There simply isn’t time.  Women have to be strong.  We have no choice.  God gave us that strength.  For that I am thankful.  Women throughout history have been referred to as “the weaker sex”.  Really?  I think not.

Now, I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.  I think being a woman is truly a gift.  Being a woman is a powerful thing.  I remember a quote from one of my favorite movies, “My Big, Fat Greek Wedding” when the mother is talking to Tula and she says, “The man is the head of this house.  But the woman is the neck and she can turn the head anyway she wants.”  I think there is an awful lot of truth to that statement.  Women possess more power than we even know.  I’m thankful to be a woman in the age in which we live.  I’m fairly certain that I wouldn’t have lasted very long in the days of hoop skirts and unwavering submission.

I know that God divinely and purposefully created me to be a woman.  I’m not sure I would have been able to hack it as a man.  I need to be weepy.  I need to be “girly”.  I love pretty and shiny things.  I love things which are aesthetically beautiful.  I love to talk about literature and life.  If I had been born into this world as a man, I have no doubt that while everyone else was watching football, I would have been attempting to design in my mind uniforms which would have been more flattering to the figure.

I thank God that He knew which sex would best fit my needs.  I wouldn’t have it any other way.  So men, laugh at me when I cry at commercials about soup, but know that I’m laughing just as loud on the inside when you feel the need to explain to me for 7 hours about the inside workings of a carburetor.  Being a woman is such a good thing.

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