One of the most gracious things we can do for ourselves is to take a break from all our self-bashing and “room for improvement” lists to reflect on the progress we HAVE made. To look back on our journey and celebrate how far we’ve come instead of forever focusing on how far we’ve yet to go.
So this year, for the Fourth of July, I’m celebrating the freedom I’ve found on the journey as I reflect on my journey as a woman, a mother, and a little bit as a reader of Sarah’s blog.
I’m ever so grateful to Sarah for sharing my story today (also I have a completely appropriate crush on her so I did no fewer than a dozen happy dances about this entire process) so without further adieu:
Everyone has words that drive them insane, that give them goosebumps or grate their ears like nails on a chalkboard. I have one friend who cannot stand the word “panties” and multiple who cringe when someone uses the word “moist.”
I try to respect their wishes and alter my vocabulary accordingly by using the word “underwear” when asking if I have a line showing through my skirt or the word “spongy” to compliment a delicious cake.
After all, I have a word that I don’t like, although mine is more likely to send me to therapy. For me, it’s the word “woman.”
As far back as I can remember I have hated the word woman. I could deal with being a lady, a girl, a female but a woman? No. Not a woman.
But, it’s not like I can avoid this word. After all, I’m a 31 year old mother of two, all my womanly bits are clearly in working order and there is nothing on earth I can do to avoid or deny it: I am a woman, I just am. So I have to get over my issues with this word, because quite frankly it’s time.
Head on over to Sara’s site to finish up and perhaps respond with a bit of your own story.