I am 28 years old and this is the first time in my life that I can proudly proclaim that I am a woman.
Ever since I turned 18 I tried to be an adult as fast as I could because I wanted the freedom to do things. I remember the rush that I had when I drove the family car on my own just to do groceries. Like seriously? Who get’s excited to run errands?! I did. Because in those 30 minutes I felt that I had freedom, that I had control, and that the wind in my hair was evidence that I was in control of my destiny. It was a rush and it came from feeling like an adult and that I could DO things. I could contribute. But every time I thought of myself as a woman it just didn’t feel right. What I honestly felt was a little girl still. I mean, hell, I was.
Then I hit my 20s and started dating an older man, and oh boy, did I fall hard — you can say love at first sight. He was a worldly gentleman and I really wanted to prove my maturity. I wanted to show off my philosophies of the world and my emotional knowledge. I had so many insights and thoughts to give but and every time he called me a woman, because I was in his eyes, it still didn’t feel right. I told him to call me a young lady instead. And a young lady I was.
And now I’m 28. I’m no longer that 18 year old trying to fill adult shoes. I’m no longer the girl in her early 20’s that was so naïve and impressionable. Life got hard and I fell to my knees. It was the kind of despair where I didn’t know if it even felt right to hope anymore. What was the point? I just didn’t understand why every single part of my life was crumbling why the world and the people I saw was something else entirely. Was I living in an alternate universe? That was year 21. It was one of my rites into adulthood.
Year 28 and I’m still on my knees. But this time, it’s because I chose to be there and am forever grateful for the journey. I see how much growth it’s given me. I came to the realization that EVERY single thing that I am unhappy with in life is entirely due to me. I am not the victim but the creator. I have the power to allow, engage, and create everything in my life. The day that I realized this is synchronously the day that I bought my first pair of pants. For those that know me, know that I don’t even own a pair of pants because I hate them.
But on that day it seems I put my big girl pants on and was finally okay with calling myself a woman.
I took full responsibility of my life. And the rush I had back then, the feeling of being in control of my destiny, is no longer a 30-minute excursion. It’s what I call womanhood.