Thoughts on International Women's Day

So here's the thing. You want to post something uplifting and empowering for IWD.  A list of women who've influenced you. But things have been so hard. You have no faith left in yourself. You can't mention your mom and grandma - hard workers outside the home most of their lives - without thinking of being told that women were meant to stay in, take care of families.You can't mention those experienced, open, and helpful teachers from way back at the beginning of your career, because A) having meaningful mentorships and friendships with people older than you is something to be embarrassed about and B) teaching is not something you should be doing, anyway, and certainly not in the Catholic school board.You can't list a sister who teaches yoga and preaches patience and staying in the moment, because yoga? Mindfulness and self-awareness? For morons.Your friends can't be mentioned because they are A) crazy B) mean C) loudmouths D) wrong.You can't list women writers you admire because they are women, and therefore not worthy of mention - they don't write about the economy or politicians and are not MRA's and are not old (mostly dead) white men.You've lost the right to write about being a woman at all. You lost the card your mom handed you back when you were thirteen and she said "never let a man control you." And "take care of yourself." And "you can do anything you want to."*Your IWD card was cut up when you made yourself open and vulnerable to the wrong person. The one who called you friend.Your IWD card was cut up when you allowed someone to stay in your life after he spit yogurt in your face.And when he called you after your award loss to say he was too embarrassed to keep talking to you,  you forgave and tried to forget. Because of course, he needed you after that.And when he told you to take your blog post down.And when he yelled at you because you didn't do what he said.And when he went from idealization to devaluation minute by minute.And when you kept it quiet.Being kind and patient only took you so far. Standing back, being an educator, not a nag, showing and not telling, got you nowhere. More and more and more was expected of you. You did not listen to what your mom said about control, and taking care of yourself, and doing what you want to. You did anything you could to just stop the constant shoving and yanking.*In November, a man walked into the lab where you waited for your turn to be stuck with another needle (this time to check why the bruises came so easily and never went away) and to have a test for chest pains. The man proceeded to shout at the receptionist, slowly, like she was an imbecile. The way you were shouted at.There you were,  right back in that car with that friend. On the phone.Your heart rate increased, your chest ached, and you couldn't breathe. What gave him the right to treat another human like that? And if the receptionist were male, would he have been so rude?You make it through the blood work and into the private room before you can finally breathe again and the tears come. You undress, wrap yourself in a paper gown and cry all the way through the ECG. The tech says nothing to you. She hands you a Kleenex and tells you how her daughter is never called by the right name, how it's common, and everyone mixes it up. Then she's gone, and you're alone. The angry man is gone when you leave.Or today, when two boys walk into school late, and your principal calls them out for their disrespect. Reiterates his expectations. Firmly. You can hear him - everyone can - the room echoes, and he has a strong voice - and you get that same breathless I-need-to-run feeling. Then it fades. And what is left is anger. Anger that on this day of empowerment for women, every time you turn around, you're reminded that you gave that power to someone else.You can look at it like this - it took many years for you to run into someone who could yell like that, could belittle, and crush. It will take time for these physical reactions to fade. You find yourself casting about searching for other women like you - strong women who've made it through. Women who understand the push and pull of wanting so bad to to have an ending where everyone wins.But you didn't win. You handed over the most vulnerable part of yourself (take care of me!) and it was stomped on.Still.To have it stomped simply because you demanded respect for doing what you want to is worth it.Because you won't be controlled by the expectations of any man - and you're grateful that this is one of the very few times in your life one has even tried to control you. It speaks not only to the amazing women who've influenced you, but the men, too - men who are comfortable with a woman being herself.You did take care of yourself.*And so here's to my mom who worked her way up from a telco operator to the head of human resources, and my grandma, who worked at Sears and raised a family, and my auntie Brenda, who is one of the kindest people I know. To Darlene and Anne, two amazing women who took a young, naive and very inexperienced teacher under their wings and gave me confidence not to quit what was a very overwhelming job. To my mother-in-law Jean, who found a love of management in middle age. (Raising three boys probably prepared her pretty well for this!)My sister is a source of quiet strength. She once said she looked up to me (only once that I can remember!) but I sure look up to her. "You're here. You're breathing. How can anything be wrong?"My daughter - one of my greatest sources of joy and inspiration. "Happy International Women's Day, Mom. Get out there and break some rules!"If there's one thing I've learned, it's the value of friendships - true friends. Friends that stuck by me even when I was clearly being an imbecile. (TALK LOUDLY AND SLOWLY)I have so many to list that I am afraid of missing someone.Monica, Sonal, Carolyn, Diana, Ali, Jennifer, Deborah, Coby.Caroline, Brenda, Adriana, JulieAnn, Amanda, Rita.Rea, Amanda, Darcie, Michelle, Kate, Patti, Tara, Kimmy.All my writing and reading and teaching friends.My students - amazing, brave young women who have so much ahead of them -  especially Jamie and Genevieve.So IWD card or no, those are the places I go back to, over and over, for solace. For strength.I'm sure I'll be back on here at some point to revise and add more.I am grateful for the men in my life, too - father, grandfather, husband, son, friends, and a principal with very high standards - :) but they get all the other days of the year, no?