Your voice is powerful. Speak Up.
We are the master of all trades. Wearer of all hats. We have --in thanks to our feminist fore-mothers broken down barriers that once were only whispered about in secret. 2019 presents us with powerful voices.
We are recognized as the givers of life, partners, lovers, executives, activists, moral compasses, heart-breakers, back bones of the familial structure, lovers of Lululemon--(you get where I am going--we are everything). The job description for the female human is unquantifiable-- and impossible to articulate, because we are required to bend, twist and improvise in each moment of each day.
So I ponder --why do I wake every morning, with NO flipping idea what the world will expect of me?
Let's unpack this loaded question.
Looking back a generation or two ago- female masses were not confronted with the confusing role of "womanhood" as we see it in the 21st century. Grandma knew her role. Grandma had her duties specifically curated by the mores of her time. She was well groomed, donning crisply ironed frocks from the Sears & Roebuck catalog and she never, ever fell for the seduction of a comfortable yoga pant. Her role was specific- and easy to detail on paper:
She was a mother, wife, homemaker and mixologist for her husband when he required his shaken-not stirred martini after his hard day at the office. Grandma was the purveyor of indulgent casseroles, neatly hemmed pinafores and a skillful hand at Bridge. She knew exactly how she would meet each day and did it with the confidence that her neighbors enjoyed the same, homogenous lifestyle.
The emergence of the female battle cry in the 60s and 70s was quite an uncomfortable time for members of grandma's circle. Ladies who were like my grandmother quickly became outdated and irrelevant. As opportunity opened for fresher , more progressive gals - the tenure of the coiffed housewife faded into 50's oblivion. The housewife was packaged and revisited with a "Leave it to Beaver" lens.
In the matter of a few years, and several hard-fought Supreme Court rulings, womanhood was permanently altered. There was no going back. A collective bra was burned and set us free.
Can I get an "AMEN"?
Finally, woman had the ability to make personal decisions regarding the regulation of their anatomy. We were gifted , from male dominated legislators the choice to manage our fertility. This brilliant explosion of feminist led change launched housewives into unimaginable atmospheric success.
While the ladies (and gents) of the 60s/70s propped the door open -- the decades to follow persevered in equalizing the sexes. We became-- more than just our XY Chromosomes. A generation of Ms. Gloria Steinem devotees began living a feminist manifesto. This manifesto liberated us to do whatever the heck we wanted.
And this is where it got a little confusing.
Many of us questioned our place in this new wide world. We questioned the very essence of who we were. Suddenly, we as grade schoolers- we were given the same athletic opportunities as the boys. Girls were mentored in science and math. And alas, home economics courses were not the only field of study for the gentler sex.
Let's give accolades to our moms who had to navigate --and, ultimately guide a new generation of go-getting girls. Moms tried hard to teach their daughters to have "it" all. Problem was---most of our moms had no frame of reference as to how to teach their daughters, because no one taught them.
I imagine (mind you, I have a colorful imagination) --that emancipation looked like ladies tearing of f their kitchen aprons and jumping into finely tailored power suits-