Strong like a woman
And proud of it
Women’s bodies are for many things.
Creating and bringing forth life are chief among our bodily functions (whether we’re personally able to or not). Baby-making explains why we’re structured the way that we are, why our organs and hormones are different from men, why we endure the physical things that we do throughout our lifetimes.
I have never wanted to emulate the body or strength of a man, whether in a gym or a workout class or in a field. I have never wanted to benchpress or hoist a tire over my head.
This is not to say that women shouldn’t do those things; if that’s your jam, be my guest. But a woman’s body and reservoirs of strength are organized quite differently than a man’s, importantly so. Because of our pelvises, women have a lower center of gravity than men. Because of the need to survive labor, we typically have more long-ranging endurance than men. Because of pregnancy and breastfeeding, we store extra fat (and in different places) than men. We are just as powerful (if not more so, IMHO) than men, but our power necessarily derives from a different set of physical tools and abilities.
I thought of this recently while listening to a podcast from a pelvic floor therapist. She repeated something that I’ve heard now a few times from others in the field: that often the worst pelvic floor injuries and prolapses she sees are, perplexingly, in women who are fitness instructors or doing CrossFit or high-intensity workouts—which are almost always designed for and by men and men’s bodies and the loads they carry. These strong-looking women, with rock-solid abs and defined biceps, can often have excessively tight pelvic floors, which get incredibly stressed by the process of birth.
I’m not reflecting on this as a woman who has achieved perfect womanly strength. On the contrary, I have pelvic floor dysfunction that I’m still working through, caused by pre-existing weakness and then the 5 hours of pushing I endured to bring my eldest into the world. The therapies and exercises I’m given are sometimes surprising to me, because they often contradict the common recommendations for a man to “get a rock-solid core.” These manly crunching and straining exercises are often the opposite of what a woman who wants a strong core should do. Our bodies are so different. Our ways of strengthening them and preparing them for work should also be different.
It’s odd to me that this message of difference is often met with consternation. I think it’s because people can read the word “different” as a synonym for “weaker” or “less than.”
The expectation for modern women to be fit as a man is fit and strong as a man is strong is related to one of misguided tenets of 1960s-1980s feminism, which emphasized that a woman was exactly the same as a man in every way. It was a marketing tactic to try to get women parity in boardrooms, and I get its intentions, but I find it patently false, on so many levels. It’s a disservice to women—and men—to suggest that we should work or lead or emote or lift in the exact same way.
Rather, it is beautiful and important for women to be strong in the ways that women are strong. Let’s reject the frankly misogynistic impulse to define “strength” and “leadership” and “competition” via an exclusively male lens. Let’s not make men the default standard of excellence or health or strength.
There is vitality in the distinction. Praise God for difference and balance in difference.
“The body is not a thing, it is a situation: it is our grasp on the world and our sketch of our project.”
— Simone de Beauvoir, The Second Sex
The Haudenosaunee, the six nations of the Iroquois Confederacy, traditionally maintained separate roles for men and women, particularly with regard to family structures, but both men and women had access to power and the leadership of the tribe.
Heritage and lineage were passed down through the mothers, and within this matrilineal network of tribes, there was a shared belief that the earth was not something that could be owned. The earth was a gift; there was no conception of land ownership or private property. Instead, the Creator gave women the special role to serve as stewards of the land.
As such, clan mothers were the ones to appoint leaders, control production of the three sisters (corn, beans, and squash), and teach children. Women selected (and unseated) chiefs and also decided when and if to go to war. Men continued to serve as chiefs, warriors, and hunters, but women shared power with them, each sex serving as the check and balance for the other.
It is said that the American Founding Fathers were inspired by this delicate balance of power achieved by the Haudenosaunee, but they failed to consider that it was the balance between the sexes that made it so effective.
In keeping with European traditions, women were wholly excluded from the schemes to establish a new nation. The men developed a republic that enshrined checks and balances but would only empower themselves.
Dudes, on Halloween:
On Halloween, I observed my seven-year anniversary at Journey Group. Working there continues to be a great joy in my life.
I recently finished reading Seth Godin’s sage little book on leadership, The Song of Significance, and he shares the following quotation, which makes me think on my time at Journey and what I’m able to pursue there.
“Following your passion is a luxury. Following your values is a necessity.
“Passion is a fickle magnet: it pulls you toward your current interests. Values are a steady compass: they point you toward a future purpose.
“Passion brings immediate joy. Values provide lasting meaning.”
— Adam Grant
Speaking of Journey Group, we’re hiring! We’re looking for a full-time UI developer, working from our Charlottesville office. Let me know if you or someone you know is interested.
Currently Reading
How to Say Babylon, Safiya Sinclair
Onlookers: Stories, Ann Beattie
The Wolves of Eternity, Karl Ove Knausgaard