WOMAN!

by Lucy Watkins

Tell me, please.  What am I supposed to do to be “woman”?  How am I supposed to walk through life, not knowing if a woman I truly am?

 Make-up doesn’t appeal to me.  High heels aren’t made for my Barney Rubble feet.  My body isn’t dainty and graceful.  My nails aren’t painted.  My hair isn’t coiffed.  My hourglass is a clock.

 The woman I see out there is much different from me.  She is dressed nicely.  She is petite and pretty.  She is professional.  She drives a nice car and lives in a clean and beautifully decorated home. 

The woman I see in the streaked mirror is tired, with Samsonites under her eyes.  She is overweight and dressed in baggy clothes.  She has a child on one breast and another on her leg.  She’s lucky if she gets a full shower each day.  She wonders if she’ll ever shave her legs again.  Her minivan door doesn’t latch well.  She trips over toys and laundry while she looks for a clean pair of underwear.   She has a job that continues 24-hours a day, 7 days a week.

 The closer I look at the woman out there, the more I begin to see.  The clips in her hair don’t match.  She tugs on her skirt to cover her slip while she digs in her purse hoping to find clear finger nail polish for the newborn run in her hose.  She hugs and kisses her child “good-bye” at the daycare, then stands with a blank look on her face as she wonders if there’s another way.  She faces a boss without concern for her children or an employee who talks about working for a “female boss”.  She holds down two jobs; one pays for 40+ hours a week, the other has no monetary value and continues endlessly. 

What is a necessity for her is a luxury to me.  What is routine for me is special for her.  I crave adult conversation.  She longs for her children.  I struggle to make ends meet.  She struggles to meet the end.

 Inside our hearts are much the same.  We love.  We fear.  We plan.  We worry.  We nurture.  We seek.  We hope.   We dream.  We falter.  We self-deprecate.   We admire.  We envy.  We struggle.   We work.  We need.  We are overlooked.   We are praised.  We are pitted against each other in the debate over working at home and working outside the home, using the breast or the bottle.  We admire and we envy each other. 

There are not enough hours in our days.  There are not enough hours in our nights.  We carry the lives of our children on our backs, under our arms, around our waists, in our hearts, in our minds, and with the vigor and energy of all those women before us who had even less than we do.   

“Woman” is unlimited.  “Woman” is the constant.  “Woman” is the giver of life, love, answers, conscience, stability, self, and hope.  While I aspire to be like that woman walking down the street, I find, in essence, I already am.    

Lucy Watkins is a freelance writer.   Currently, her work can be seen in Vegetarian Baby and Child Magazine.  She has been married to Barry for 9 years and, together, they've brought into this world two beautiful girls, Joy Lynn (3) and Shirlee (1). 

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