It’s Dangerous For a Woman To Be Human
We were never meant to carry this much alone - and then be told how strong we are.
We see it time and time again. We experience the mental gymnastics that are required to exist as a woman in this society. Only to be told that everything we just did was wrong and how it should have been executed instead.
This morning, I sat down at my desk in last night’s pjs to answer a practical email before tending to my sick kids who are still tucked into their beds. I thought I’d whip out a few fact-based answers rather quickly before I handed out Advil, refilled water bottles, and made toast no one would eat. I wanted to move quickly into the next part of my day - writing my post for the week easily and effortlessly. Instead, my coffee grew cold while my brain tried to process how I was staring at a version of my life that had been reduced to bullet points and misinterpretations.
I read and reread those words, staring back at me in black and white on my computer screen. I felt the familiar pit in my stomach that shows up when I’m feeling both defensive and deeply sad at the same time. My breath was shallow. Tears threatened to leak from my eyes.
Instead of the clarity I was seeking, I felt uninspired and defeated.
Suddenly, ordinary moments from years ago were rearranging themselves before my eyes. I was remembering a time that was filled with utter exhaustion, immense burnout, and deep grief. All those emotions relentlessly swirled around unwelcome in my body back then.It was a hard season to say the least. The kind where merely surviving the day and continuing to function felt like a full-time job.
These are the kinds of things women carry for years while still showing up as they are expected to. We pack lunches, pay bills, work every day while juggling the parent pickup line at school while answering texts and emails from our phones. Life keeps moving even when we struggle.
What we hear in response is “you’re so strong” or “I don’t know how you do it.”
All I can think now is how strange it is that years of motherhood can suddenly be translated into evidence. Those passing comments can be misinterpreted as an entire thesis of ineptitude. It’s terrifying to watch complicated human years flattened into neat conclusions or character flaws. It leaves me circling this idea about how little room women are given to be fully human without it being seen as a failure.
Impossible Expectations
Women are expected to carry the invisible emotional labor of everyone around us, which feels impossible on the best of days. We are expected to have answers to all of the never-ending questions, know where everything is, and keep everyone fed. We are told to stay skinny, well hydrated, and prioritize self-care. We are the organizers of life - remembering every appointment and noticing when the milk is running low. If we do finally crack under the pressure, it’s used against us as proof of our inadequacy.
How can we so easily simplify a human experience filled with impossible standards into judgment on how we should have performed better? Or worse, criticize how we look while we try to be everything to everyone.
It is no wonder so many women reach midlife and no longer recognize the reflection staring back at them in the mirror. We are exhausted in ways sleep can’t fix. Our bodies have been carrying impossible expectations for so long that we don’t even know who we are anymore. It’s a very dangerous expectation that women should suffer silently, but also look beautiful while they do it.
"Here’s to strong women:
May we know them, may we be them, may we raise them"
I’m beginning to think that the strongest women are not the ones who never break down or need rest. They are the ones who continue to love deeply after heartbreak. They are the ones who forgive easily or reluctantly let go of burdens while carrying more than most people see. They are the ones who still show up in all the ways they are needed and find a way to choose themselves at the same time.
Perhaps, the problem is not that a woman may fall apart sometimes, but that she’s expected to do it silently.
Women were never meant to carry this much alone and simply call it strength. Who can do that gracefully?
If you’re in a season of rebuilding and embarking on your next chapter, welcome home. I’ve got a room for you if you need a safe place to land, space to pause, and time to recalibrate: Reinvention Retreats.