It is difficult being a strong woman.
To have our opinions, which are not always the “right and proper” opinions, to assert these opinions, to be dismissed for them; to be passionate about the things we are passionate about; to step out into the wilderness that holds no shred of similarity to the popular way of things embraced by the tribe—it is not without its dangers.
There are days my insides have burned liquid from the passion of my purpose, and there are days my insides have frozen solid because I don’t know if I should say what needs to be said—I have watched too many strong women get knocked to their knees, and I don’t know if I have what it takes to get back on my feet when the same comes for me.
Strong women brave the consequences of their strength. There is never a shortage of critics and judgment and misunderstanding leveled at strong women, because women, historically, have been shoved into neat and pretty—convenient—boxes. Stay here, stay silent, stay small.
The problem is that I have never liked boxes, they way they press in on all sides and make it hard to breathe, the way they cut off the light with a darkness that feels inescapable, the way they smell of dust and fear and the death of what had lived. So though I know what a strong will and heart and mind can do to a woman’s reputation, I choose to step out of the box, tape it up, and toss it back at the ones who would like me to remain curled up inside it, silent and small.
I will not be silent. I will not be small.
(Photo by Ryan Moreno on Unsplash)
