The Guts, The Glory, and The Girls

It is March, and it would be impossible to let this month pass without honoring the women who truly shape our world. I have had the privilege of knowing so many great ones—my mother, my sister, friends I’ve lost touch with, and colleagues I admire even as I hear men “bitch” about their strength. I see it in the random girl who pops up on my Instagram feed, the one my algorithm knows I admire because she’s doing things differently.
The truth is, women are special. I don’t say that just because I am one; I see men and women as equals, but there is a uniqueness in women that is hard to ignore. It is a specific kind of empathy and a “brutal” honesty—a heart without malice. Even when a woman is labeled as “difficult,” it is usually just the friction of a spirit craving the freedom she was told she couldn’t have.

This is for the women of the generation before us, who refused to let their daughters inherit the glass ceilings they lived under. It would have been so much easier to let us go through what you did, but you chose to be the shield. I see that same strength in the “firsts”—the women who are the first in their bloodline to think differently and claim their own space. There is a silent language of support that men will never fully grasp. It’s the colleague who catches your eye across a long meeting and sees the slight wince of a period cramp. Without a word, she slides a glass of water your way or steers the conversation so you can take a breath. No partner, no matter how sweet, truly understands that physical tax, but she does.

It’s the same bond I feel when I see a brave woman being harassed in a comment section. In those moments, I want to reach through my phone, pull her into a hug, and stand in front of her like a shield just so those men know she isn’t standing alone. We see her, and we are the silent army behind her. We are each other’s loudest cheerleaders, contrary to the myths society tries to sell about female rivalry. Nobody gets your heart like a mother or a sister, because they feel the same vibrations of life that you do. A sister looks at your success with a pure, ego-less pride that nobody can mirror. Even our grandmothers, caught in the cycles of patriarchy, were once just girls craving a freedom they weren’t allowed to have. We carry their rebel spirit forward now.

Then there are friends—the ones who are your fiercest advocate in rooms you haven’t even entered yet. She is the one who defends your name with such absolute conviction in your absence that people wouldn’t dare try to pit you against each other. She knows your flaws, she sees your mistakes coming a mile away and lets you make them, but the second someone else speaks ill of you, she is your public defender. It is a level of protection that is earned through shared battles and silent understandings.

To the women who said “no,” who refused to blend in, and who built their own lives and wealth—you are the architecture of the future. And to the mothers, you are the strongest among us. To choose to let your body transform and endure to bring life into this world makes you my favorite kind of people.

Finally, Happy Women’s Day to the men who don’t try to “manage” us. To the men who respect us as equals and let us be our full, unfiltered selves. To the rest, just know that we see you. We see when you stay silent because the status quo benefits you. But the bond between women is a fortress. We will continue to call out the shadows and protect our girls—even the ones we don’t personally like—because we are all we’ve got. Here’s to the guts, the glory, and the girls.