There’s no doubt that I am a woman; curvy, beautiful, intelligent, fashionable, nurturing, intriguing and constantly changing. I am the first to cheer my fellow sisters on, to encourage them, offer them advice, lend them a helping hand and be an ear when they need to listen. I love the fact that women are so versatile; strong enough to bear the children and soft enough to make a man weak in the knees. We possess the power and wisdom to be the backbones of every nation, rearing up presidents, generals, and inventors. We’re the glue that holds our families together, the concrete that keeps our children grounded, and the heartbeat of the world. With all those compliments and accolades, it seems like it should be easy for anyone to love a woman. Not me. I admittedly have a love/hate relationship with the female gender.
How can I hate women when I’m a woman? It’s not hard to do. I don’t necessarily hate women, but I do hate their ways. What’s their ways? Their gossiping, fighting, backbiting ways, and conniving ways. The way we can’t praise or be genuine with one another because, we may smile and congratulate but as soon as that person turns their back, we’re downgrading and marring their success. When we see them in love and happy, we find ways to place seeds of doubt in their head because we’re lonely and miserable and we want our sisters to be that way too. In their bad times, we rub their backs and hand them tissues then walk away and spread gossip filled with out sister’s shortcomings and issues. We air her dirty laundry with reckless abandon and ignore the possible damage, pain or loss of trust our words may cause. We see one another as competition; I have to look better than her, be better than her, be skinnier than her, prettier than her, heels higher than hers, diamond and bags bigger than hers, kids smarter than hers, an ego larger than hers, hell I want to be her, steal her man, take her kids, or whatever just to get at her. I FREAKING HATE HER! Sound familiar?
One day, when we all realize our power as women. The gems we all are; the shine we all have, the light we emit, maybe, just maybe we can all be sisters again. When we stop coveting what our neighbor has and focusing on better ourselves, being mothers and wives, we can find that we also want to come together again. We can renew our bond. When we stop worrying about the streets and impressing Mr. and Mrs. Jones, we can once again become one. Join hands and march like we did with Dr. King, or dance and rejoice, praise and enjoy one another again. Love one another. Offer a hope, encouragement, love, loyalty, honesty, and genuineness. Once again, be friends. Be sisters once again.