Pulling Through...

Women-holding-handsWomen-holding-hands

Will I make it?

This is a question I recently heard a young woman ask of herself. I have asked myself that same question as I am sure many women do.

I wonder why we as women have such a shaky faith in ourselves to get through the hardest times of our lives. Why is it that in the midst of chaos or heartache, there is a voice that whispers, "Will I make it?" and then we wait-to see if an answer comes out of the darkest moments? If we are still here, then obviously the answer has come.

I am not sure if men have that same voice or not. I have never been a man so I can not presume to know what they think. It just appears that men have much more faith in themselves. I hear them say, "I'll figure it out." and "I'll find the answer." I rarely hear them say, "I don't know if I'll survive this." Is it a conditioning in their lives or is there something, inherent inside of men, to be able to see the light at the end of the tunnel even if it's just a tiny pin prick and barely visible?

When each of my daughters was born, I held them in my arms and I wept. Yes, out of joy but also out of sadness. I thought about every woman in those first moments. I thought of each heartache that a woman experiences. I thought that someday these girl children of mine would know exactly what it really was to hurt and hurt deeply. I wished with everything inside me to prevent it. That isn't possible, I know. Will they make it? I'm not sure, but I sure as hell will be pulling these young women through all of it as I do with all of the women in my life. Just as so many women have done in my life.

Men wonder why we women rally round when one of us is in need. They wonder how a battle two years long of not speaking to each other is forgotten in seconds when we hear, "I don't know if I'll get through this…" They wonder why a middle of the night phone call doesn't bother us if we can be of help. They wonder how we can cry so easily with the dear women in our world. It's because each of us are hearing the echo of our own little voice of doubt. We live with this fear of if one of us does not make it, then we might not either. And we know too, that any little thing we can do to make it better will make some part of it better.

The women in our lives insist we keep going even when we want most of all to give up. They pull us through and out and up and away from what we cannot handle alone and from what we feel we will not survive. And the men in our lives stand beside us, behind us, in front of us-believing whole heartedly that we will get through it.

Will you make it? I insist, along with every woman in your life around you.


Monika M. Basile