Women.

Much of my adolescence was spent fighting against a tomboyish nature. Alone, I thrived on femininity, I loved books about adventurous young girls (especially Laura Ingalls Wilder), I played with dolls and could spend a lifetime picking flowers. Among others, I wanted to hide myself, to blend with the population of my peers in such a way that gathered no attention, negative or positive. Even while being praised for some accomplishment I somehow felt the eyes of judgement on me, the eyes of every other girl my age.

Then one day, some uneventful and unmemorable moment between the age of 20 and 21, I bloomed--not just for the world, but for myself. I not only felt like what I thought a woman should feel like, but I believed it. I believed I could be whatever woman I wanted to be, and I didn't need to hide myself, I didn't fear the judging gazes of other so-called women.

So today, November 4th, I am thankful for women. Not because they are all beautiful, created in God's eyes to be powerful and sensuous and wise, but because I have had just the right women to show me the way. I am thankful for the women who have walked beside me on the journey of "become a real person," a journey that is difficult to take alone. I am thankful for the women in my life, and for who they are. I am thankful for their love, their support, their wisdom. I am thankful that they see me.

I could list them... but something tells me, they know who they are.

"There is in every true woman's heart a spark of heavenly fire, which lies
dormant in the broad daylight of prosperity but which kindles up and
beams and blazes in the dark hour of adversity." - Washington Irving