I'm a woman.
And I'm not sure women will ever be "understood." I'm not sure anyone is ever entirely figured out or fully known. We are mysterious, complex creatures -- a wonder. It seems unfair to ever blame or accuse someone, saying "You just don't get me." How can they?
We share experiences. We see common threads in our stories. We love sharing and empathizing, grabbing the thread to help us connect. But that doesn't mean we ever totally understand one another.
We see in part. Our ability to understand, communicate, hear, and know is limited at best.
But I love how hard women try.
The women of my tribe try so hard. Their hearts are genuine, their intent sincere. They challenge me, check on me, and call me out when I'm hiding or giving up.
I fight for them. I see the greatness in their makeup and call it out, telling them, "I see this in you!" And they do the same.
I think it's the fight I appreciate the most. We fight against our schedules, others' expectations, our own shame or belief in ourselves. We push beyond each anchor that drags on us and still find a way to believe in our women. We listen, offer advice, we say the perfect thing at the right time, and totally blow it at the wrong time.
But we agonize over hurt. We rail at injustice. We love hard and deep; any break in connection cuts us. When we see others breaking, compassion launches into action to help any way we can.
We try again.
That's what I love about women. Beautiful, broken, passionate, relentless, brave, weary, steadfast, faithful women.
They don't give up.
And they don't let me give up either.