Penalized for Strength.

I don't know how to write this, but I guess I'm going to try... it's a mix of words and confusion and lots of unseen emotion that I haven't figured out or know how to deal with... so here's the sloppy vocabulary end of it...

I spent most the day today with one of my friends, and he repeated himself through the day with labeling "feminist" on me. Usually I laugh because I've already given him my "strong woman, soft heart" speech...

But by the end of the day, he got out of the car, and I felt.... vulnerable. Feminist? Me? That's the last thing I want to be -- some I-hate-men, anger-driven, unconcerned, hardened creature who feels the need to prove herself at every turn.

I have no idea how he defines 'feminist,' which obviously matters in this conversation, but it still pulled at me. He's a good friend, a sincere heart, and crazy guy, and our honesty of relationship is positive, but I still couldn't help but cringe at the term.

My mom was strong. Surely. But lovely and soft and caring and concerned and compassionate and giving and serving and humble and gracious. She was sure and moving and demanding and leading, but all in ways that complimented the earlier. And the mixture of these things, made her... wonderful... Her.

So to be called "feminist" unnerved me. It's the opposite of what I what to be. I'm a strong woman. I was raised to be. I was taught to work hard, to live purposefully, to use the hours well. To start the day with prayer and breakfast and then keep moving from there. To mow the law, power a stick-shift, drive a four-wheeler, budget finances. To not complain until I had taken action to correct the complaint. There wasn't an option to be weak, to be soft-spoken. For heaven's sake, all I got was crap about being "too sensitive." But now my friend instead sees my strength as assertive and strong and who-knows-what.

I don't like being punished for being strong. I don't enjoy being intimidating to men, and therefore not asked out... and, alone or unmarried, because men don't know what to do with the fact that I can get dirty, do chores, and think for myself. I don't like the fact that because I'm (using his words) "spiritually mature," I'm punished because other men aren't. And it leaves me alone because of this strength.

So anyway... my entourage... He wasn't meaning what-so-ever to be hurtful, and has no idea I took his flingings to heart... And I know that the godly man I desire will have strength enough to be beyond these thoughts or ideals or expectations... but in the midst, it left vulnerable me.

And lastly, though, what I must add here... is what left tears to my eyes. What was REDEEMED. Because after this encounter, amidst my insecurities, my dad called. And something about just talking to him affirmed me, as me. My strength and intentionality and purposeful use of every moment in time. Because my whole family is like that, and we all love being that way and understand it; it's familiar and true. My sister, my brother, my brother-in-law, my sister-in-law... we all are strong. We're leaders, we're decision-makers, we're risk-takers, we're do-oers. We're 7am up-and-at-um. We're work-hard, play-hard, rest-hard, pray-hard people.

So it's interesting, that my family somehow redeemed my fallen thoughts and sinking self-esteem. That my strength was breed from their strength today, and that is how it was redeemed.

So to strength, to soul, to softness, to me. I pray, oh Lord, make a beautiful woman of me.