Disclaimer: I know every woman is different. This is my story and these are my facts. And this is not an essay about how I think MY path is the best path or the only path. It’s just about who I am as a woman. Because Matt Walsh asked a lot of people “What is a Woman?” and this is how I define her…from the unique perspective that is just me.
I was a girl and, as a result of puberty, am now a woman. For 22,140 days I have been a woman. If, in 500 years, they dig me up, the only thing they will know for sure is I was female. I had eggs and could bear young. THAT IS ALL. So, as an expert in me, I will give you a run down on what THIS woman is.
I have XX chromosomes. Scientists say that makes me a woman. I can be moody for no reason. I don’t know the reasons for a lot of the things I do or the whys of the way I behave. I am complicated. I am one of a kind. I am uniquely me.
The Rundown on what I DO know…
I am 100% sure that if someone touches my child or grandchild, I would kill them or die trying. I love my husband fiercely and always have his back. I don’t believe in talking marriage trash to friends and family. In the active mode of being a mother, I believed in keeping my kids out of the business of our marriage and keeping the disagreements behind closed doors. It made my kids feel secure. That is the secret to a well-adjusted child. I know because I raised two.
I know I was born to be a wife and a mother and I am unapologetically me. Yes, I have felt ‘less-than’ because I didn’t choose law school, or that marketing job with the Coeur d’Alene Resort. I chose to raise my kids and be a 100% present full time mom. Hubs worked on The Bering Sea, so much of the time it was just me. If I hadn’t written down a lot of things in letters to my husband when my kids were growing up, I would have forgotten so much of what we went through. But, when I see my kids with their kids, raising them to be absolutely great human beings, I can sit back with a sigh and give myself a pat on the back. I had one job and I totally nailed it. Oh, how I love those 2 kids. (aged 32 and 34 now!)
I am not scared of anything, and that has me wondering if there is something wrong with me.
I have come to the conclusion that having a uterus makes you cry. 100%. When you get rid of that, you function on a different level. It is just as fierce, but not as emotional.
I say I don’t want a gift and I am just fine with love. But deep down, that is not true. I want you to have listened to me and heard my words. I want you to have heard me say 3 months ago that I loved the little (replica!) Van Gogh print; and I would love to find it, wrapped up for me. Just because.
I am a woman who is most content in the home I have built. Literally and figuratively. I am surrounded by things that I believe are beautiful and meaningful in my life..always attached to memories. I can tell you where each and every piece of lovely came from. I am a woman who cried when she broke the big yellow Pyrex bowl, because it belonged to my grandma, who was born in 1899.
I know I am a daughter of God. He doesn’t make mistakes. I come from a long line of people who started and patronized churches, both here and in Wales. Here is a photo of my 12x great-grandparents in Denbighshire Wales. And, when I walked into that church and saw this? I cannot describe the feeling of finding this part of WHO I am. It made me stand up straighter, and it made me stronger. Knowing that I had the blood of these people running through my veins gave me the strength to stand up for what was fair and just when the world was falling into hell. My 12x great-uncle was the one who translated the first King James Bible from English into Welsh.
But Still…
I have an aversion to tidying up drawers and closets. It has always been this way. I don’t know why, it is just the way it is. Change is doubtful.
I love men. I have always loved them. It began when I was 5 and I was with my mom in the grocery store. I was sitting on the place where the bag boy would set the paper bags to bag the groceries. My mom told this dreamy 16 year old boy “Oh, just shoo her off if she is in your way.” He answered her with words I will never forget. “Oh, she is too pretty. She can sit right there!” Something inside me clicked and defined me. With that one little sentence, I looked at him with my big green eyes and fell in love; with him, with my brother’s friends, the boys at school and just guys in general. It was not the sad, ‘looking for daddy’ love that so many young women have grown up with. It never turned into promiscuous behavior. It was a searching appreciation for something that would complete me. It became a barometer to my sense of self as a woman. A woman who is not complete without a man.
Yep. I said it. I appreciate men and all they are. I appreciate all they bring to the table that I do not. Real men. Because I cannot BE everything.
Luckily for me, I didn’t choose look within myself to find the half of me that was missing. I needed a half that could do math in his head or be okay with killing our dinner so I could cook it. I needed the half that could add oomph to my eggs and make my family complete. I am not interested in working on my car or changing the oil, but I am pretty good at reading a room and knowing when to keep my mouth shut.
I sense things. Not in a witchy way. Sometimes I feel as if I am playing on another level. Something inside me is attuned to another realm and I try to heed internal warnings just as seriously as if they were an external DANGER sign. And, for lack of a better word, I will just call it the Seventh Sense. My Seventh Sense has very rarely led me astray. Unless it was drunk. Then all bets were off. But, we don’t do that anymore.
I do not thrive on adrenaline rushes. Although…there was that one time. Hubs and I were in Namibia and he had just killed 2 warthogs. I was at the farmhouse and heard his 2 shots. I had the truck, so I ran out and got in ‘old Smelly’ as the sun was going down. I followed the beaten track slowly, windows open to Africa and the sounds of the approaching night. After about a mile I hear his shout. He ran up and directed me down a well worn two-track. He had killed 2 warthogs that were tearing up farm fields and roads. He had one bullet left. As I maneuvered the pickup around into a ditch to make the loading easier, the sun was sinking fast. In the middle of the road he points to tracks. Not tire tracks, LEOPARD TRACKS. Fresh BIG ones. So, there we are with 2 big bloody warthogs to load and a leopard closeby. I have to admit that I liked it…that feeling of danger and adrenaline. But once was enough.
I know that I am unique. I know that I am strong. I know that God chose to make me exactly how I am. And when I say that, I am not talking about my outer shell. I am talking about my intellectual, emotional, decidedly undecided, God-loving, skeptical, fierce, scary, strong, loyal, connected, growly, rock-solid, growth-forward self.
Did you know that Fe is the element symbol for iron? So, when you add the Fe to the male, it makes us completely who we are. Female. Woman. Rawr.
FEMALE: noun
a female person : a woman or a girl
an individual of the sex that is typically capable of bearing young or producing eggs
I watched What is a Woman, and that is why I wrote this. So, ladies…define yourself in the comments! Or men…tell me what YOU think a woman is. I’ll wait.
I loved reading this, SadieJay. I loved "each and every piece of lovely" 🥰
Sadie Jay, You are amazing! Love your writing! I can close my eyes and feel every word! Thank you! You've captured it all!