women

These thoughts have been swirling in my draft folder for a while. They were brought on months ago and have nothing to do with anything going on in my life right now. Some similar things came up in discussions at the retreat so I know they swirl in the minds of many women.

I have been fortunate to have good relationships with most of the men in my life. They have, for the most part, been kind and understanding men. Men who supported my dreams and whose own dreams I supported. I have, however, experienced issues in the workplace and looking back, even though I leveraged complaints, my concerns were rarely heard.

i remember having an issue with a man in our sales department erupting vocally on me in a very aggressive manner. I complained to my boss, a woman. Instead of filing a larger more formal complaint, the male VP talked me into letting him handle it. I folded. I chose not to ruffle any feathers because I knew they valued the sales guy more than they valued me.

Their way of handling it allowed this man to come into my office with just the two of us, close the door and apologize. It was 20 minutes of a very strange apology. It was frightening. A couple of years later this man killed his wife, their cats and then committed suicide.

You might think this is rare, but I have even seen a male supervisor hurl a coffee cup at a female employee and I had a boss throw his glasses at me.

I was shocked to read this article from Huffington Post about corporate training Ernest & Young conducted as late as 2018 on how women should dress and comport themselves around men in the workplace. It is discouraging.

I welcome my male readers to respond in kind with the things that men sometimes choose. I think it might help us understand each other.

Sometimes women choose…

To stop at a fast-food restaurant bathroom because it feels safer than a rest stop.
To stay home rather than go alone.
To stay silent for fear of not being believed.
To not have children and the reason does not matter.
To leave a good-paying job because of harassment.
To stay when they know they should go.
To fight until they can fight no more.
To cry because they feel something – not always because they are sad.
To laugh rather than cry.
To be alone rather than to try to be someone they are not.
To act like a man so they are not treated like a woman.
To suck it up in order to keep their job.
To stay single.
To have platonic relationships with male friends.
To travel alone and hope to be safe.
To choose a career over everything else.
To choose a family over everything else.
To raise their voice in order to be heard.

Day 17

I started this blog 17 days ago. I was not sure what to expect and honestly I was not sure I would be able to follow it through. I wondered what I would write about every day for 365 days.

For years I read that it takes 21 days to form a habit. More recent research indicates that number may be closer to 66 days. So, I am far from this being normal for me, but I will say that with every day that passes, it becomes more natural.

What to Write

The thing I worried most about was what I would write. What I am finding is amazing. Every day I see something or read something or do something that turns into inspiration for a blog post.

Perhaps this is simply electronic journaling to some, but there is something more here. Something a little magical.

Now I worry less about what to write and am much more conscious of how I spend my day, making sure I allocate time to write. As a writer, this is a wonderful thing.

I am sure many of us could be more cognizant of the time and energy we put into non-productive things in our lives.

Unexpected Benefits

I find that my days have less and less time for social media interactions. I have certain times of the day that I check up on Facebook or Instagram, but outside of that I have curbed that habit quite a bit. I am finding it is a healthy change for me.

I was not the only person who started this 365 day journey. There is a group of amazing women walking this path together.

I encourage you to check out the links in my sidebar to read what is being shared here. This community of like-minded women has inspired me in so many ways.

When I started blogging regularly, I found I also started reading more. I try to faithfully read what my fellow bloggers are writing. And I also seek out other bloggers who are writing on topics of interest to me.

Empathy and Reflection

I have a thing for the written word. When someone pours their heart and soul on the page it is impactful and meaningful to me. Writing triggers something inside me that opens the pathways to memory and feelings so perhaps it is the same for other writers.

This morning I read a post that gutted me. One of my fellow bloggers wrote about her struggles and it touched me deeply. That is what authentic writing can do — she classified it as ‘raw’ and I must agree. She was so brave and I was honored to witness what she wrote. (Thank you Tanya.)

This entry she wrote not only made me feel great empathy and respect for her, but it also triggered memories of my sister, Rosie. When she was so ill with the cancer that would eventually take her life, we had many heartbreaking conversations about her feelings and her fears. I wrote about one of our conversations back in 2010 that broke my heart. I have never forgotten it. This morning I went back and read it again.

Giving Thanks

To my dear friend Maitri, I am so thankful for your encouragement to join you in this 365 day blog challenge. I was familiar with blogging, but I never anticipated the other channels in my soul that this work would blow wide open.

To the ladies that join me in this journey – thank you from the bottom of my heart. Your words move me and I am forever changed by this experience. Thank you for sharing your simple days and your hardest days. I love being in a circle of women that lift each other up. It is refreshing and enriching in so many ways.

You have added something moving and powerful to my life and I thank you.

“Sometimes that’s all you need my love – another woman’s faith in you.”
Joy McCullough