Women are beautiful. We smell good even after a workout. Our sweat is sexy. Our skin glows. Our hair is luxurious. We hail cabs in 4-inch heels, and win Jenga games while carrying babies. We clean up the mess others leave behind, but don’t you dare call us “clean up women”.
We are teachers. Scientists. Models. Mothers. Sisters. Best friends. Girlfriends. Wives. Grandmothers. Engineers. Fashion Designers. Makeup artists. Politicians. Entertainers. Dancers. Dreamers. Healers. Believers. Magicians. Coaches. Athletes. Gold Medalists. Chefs. CEO’s. Janitors. Managers. Philanthropists. Stay at home moms. We are anything we really, really, really, want to be.
We are Michelle Obama. Susan Wojcicki. Frida Kahlo. Olivia Pope. Emma Gonzalez. Victoria Manalo Draves. Dark Phoenix. Ayesha Curry. Chloe Kim. Okoye. Princess Diana. Cleopatra. Marie Curie. Misty Copeland. JK Rowling. Malala. We are so many women we haven’t even heard of.
We are compassionate yet tough yet sweet yet sassy yet gentle yet strong yet patient yet unrelenting yet simple yet complex yet humble yet a motherfucking force to be reckoned with.
We love with parts of our soul we never knew existed, and carry the burdens of others with strength we never knew we had. We save our tears for after we wipe away someone else’s, and forget to eat while cooking dinner. We raise sons to be Kings and raise daughters to be Queens, we raise our hands to ask questions and raise an eyebrow at authority, and raise our raises because we are worth it.
But we are nothing without each other.