Strong Enough To Be Yourself

My dear girls, 

I grew up with strong, independent women and the men who loved them. I believed my opinion mattered and my voice was meant to be heard. Soon enough, I realized my family dynamics were rare. From the world, I was fed doubt and uncertainty. I started second-guessing myself as part of the routine; this never-enough feeling was planted deep inside me, this need to be small, to make myself useful, serving, willing, friendly and never challenging. I worked under the assumption that there was something wrong with all my feminine qualities, that compassion, empathy, and cooperation were weak attributes, that ambition has only one form, and that there is only one way to achieve professional growth. I was "too much," too articulated, too outspoken, too demanding, and too feminist.  My gender served as my own limit on what I could and should achieve. I created a dumbed-down, watered-down version of myself that was less threatening to the world I was living in, but I was miserable pretending. Miserable to the point of depression. I was a walking contradiction; I wanted my "happily-ever-after Disney princess ending", but I also wanted to leave a mark in the world, not just be someone's wife or mother. 

Moving to Canada was my way out of this nightmare I couldn't conform to, my life jacket. I became more comfortable in my own skin because I wasn’t labelled difficult, angry, or liberal (like it was a bad word); I was just me, and I was accepted. It turns out I wasn't weird (well, I am); I just needed a different audience and a different background. I married a guy who loved cooking and baking, who I have seen crying more than once. A man who didn't accept the set roles of our genders. He believed I could do anything I wanted and that it was ok to be vulnerable.

Still, the struggles persist. They are more subtle but still real: the micro-aggressions, others deciding how I should mother and how ambitious I should be. The one that pisses me off the most is when people decide what my priorities should be and what I shouldn't even bother with since, you know, I am a mother, and I "can't just do it all." Oh, but what do they know?! Only I know when I have reached my limit. Only I know how much drive, passion and dedication can push me to accomplish. Only I know how much love can make me endure for the good of my family. 

I am a woman and a mother; I am capable, strong and vulnerable, and none of those things should work against me; I refuse to accept it. I am lucky to have such good role models growing up; I treasure and value them now more than ever. I am grateful to have a husband who embraces his sensitive side and can be himself around me, the good, the bad, and the ugly because I have his back just as much as he has mine.