Sunday, 10 March 2013

Four Women

For one lowly individual on this Mother Earth, I am made up of four diverse women.


FirstShe is earnest and keen. She has her sights set on a different prize everyday. FirstShe is a glass half-full kinda woman. She is aware of her challenges and this doesn't faze her; in fact this is what gets her out of bed in the morning; the relish of the challenge. FirstShe loves being with people and seems to be able to find those who will support her, and guide her. FirstShe is carefree. She is a shining star who spends an extraordinary amount of time planning her next steps.  Time doesn’t move fast enough for FirstShe, yet there is this niggling feeling that she is always running out of time.  FirstShe is passionate about people, about things, about emotions.  She trusts and loves hard but if you cross her, she can hate hard too.  Well, maybe not hate – that seems too harsh a word.  She may feel like she hates but it appears to others as though she is unforgiving and cold.  But truly, it’s the opposite because she burns inside when she is let down; burns with hurt.  At times she burns with a rage but she doesn’t show or tell this to others.  She just moves on to the next thing, project, person, feeling.  Now FirstShe can be inspirational and the wings beneath the desire of others.  FirstShe is striving to be the woman that she wants her daughters to be, she sees it in them already – that fire that flickers in the eyes of the young, threatening to grow into a wild bushfire.  Unlike the dying embers that is visual in the aging generations.  But FirstShe is difficult to be around all of the time, she exhausts others and frustrates them.  FirstShe does not like to sit down.

Unlike SecondShe.  Who could sit, lie and sleep until time runs out.  SecondShe is burnt out.  Her star faded many, many moons ago and she has neither time, inclination or energy to reignite herself.  SecondShe has seen her strength diminish over the years; battered by daily grind of work, motherhood and wifery.  There are mornings where she is unable to exist at all.  Her feet move, her heart beats and she dutifully functions with the grace of an obsolete robot.  She is distant from those around her, unable to connect with the banter required of the working mother.  SecondShe hides from her children; she is ashamed and fears that her presence will taint their youthful vigour.  She is diseased; at times riddled with a deadness that can paralyse her completely.  There are those in her life who understand her and she knows they are constantly offering a helping hand, but that’s an effort – to request, explain or quantify her existence.  So she remains concealed.  Shut behind literal and metaphorical doors SecondShe allows herself days where she parades in her melancholic glory. SecondShe is envious of FirstShe but is smug she isn’t ThirdShe.



Duty. Chained. Prisoner. ThirdShe.  There are roles we all play in the various circles of our lives.  ThirdShe acknowledges who she is and knows her place.  Day to day she strives to maintain the equilibrium of those around her.  Juggling the spheres of her existence she paints a smile or a frown if required. And ticks all the boxes.




FourthShe is loved by all.  A dreamer excitedly tripping through a plethora of beings. Who can she be today? What can she achieve tomorrow? FourthShe lives her life in colour. Shedding the monochrome palette of ThirdShe, she breathes in nature’s elements and strides through the lives of others in a rainbow.  Creating life, laughter, art, happiness, IDEAS.  FourthShe endeavours to colour the lives of the otherShes. She dismisses boundaries and pursues pleasure with limitless energy.

To make a Me, I have to love, cherish and accept all these Shes. They are borne of my experience, my surroundings, my ups and my downs.  Some days one She may be louder than another, one may suppress or support another.  I am still learning to be kind to all of them, and to me. 
Celebrating International Women.