I am woman-hear-me-roar. I sing this anthem joyously, not to make a political statement, but as a celebration of my own strength, courage, and determination.
When I found myself suddenly single after twenty-five years of marriage, I learned quickly enough just how difficult it is to be a single female in America. No longer wearing the title “Mrs” . . . no longer under the protective wing of a husband . . . my status dropped dramatically. Even though I was the same person—and a happier, more-relaxed person— society viewed me as a reckless, irresponsible, emotional single female.
“Women are repeatedly accused of taking things personally. I cannot see any other honest way of taking them.” —Marya Mannes
It was a rude awakening during those first months of my separation from my soon-to-be-ex to learn that my car insurance premiums were going to increase considerably simply because, as my agent explained, I was female, no longer married, and now considered a “volatile risk.” Utility companies told me a variation of the same thing. It didn’t matter to them that I had been employed full-time for over ten years at the same place or that during the last three years of the marriage—while my ex was blissfully unemployed—I had been the one paying all the bills. It didn’t matter that, in truth, I was the more mature, responsible, and trustworthy person. I was told, because I was female, I had “less earning potential” than my ex had and, therefore, was considered less credit worthy. If I wanted to get his name off the accounts—gas, electric, phone, or whatever—and put the accounts in my name, I would need to pay sizable security deposits.
I heard it so many times, at one point I told the woman from the cable company to stop. Just stop. I told her if she continued to tell me I had to pay more because I was female, arguing that it made perfect sense to her—Why couldn’t I grasp the fact?—I would sue her and the company for sex discrimination.
This double standard was annoying at the very least, insulting and degrading, and only served to strengthen my resolve to prove to the world . . . and myself . . . that I was responsible and worthy, a strong female, better than married, and more-than-able to make it on my own.
Female strength is all about self-empowerment. It’s about believing in yourself and knowing, no matter what the obstacles are, you do have the power to make positive changes in your life.
It takes courage, strength, and determination to rise above the low expectations others would place in your way. I dug in. I paid the security deposits, established credit in my own name, opened savings and checking accounts, and continued paying the bills on time, as I always had, like any responsible person, male or female, would.
I was able to jump the roadblocks with quiet strength without compromising my core convictions or belief in myself. It made me a stronger, better person. I am less anxious, more secure, and unafraid because I now know that no matter what should happen, I have the power within myself to do anything—to rise above what appear to be insurmountable odds and accomplish the impossible, if that’s what I need to do. This feeling of inner strength is liberating.
When I look back on the most fulfilling endeavors in my life, I can see that they were always challenges that moved me beyond my comfort zone.
I’m no longer bothered by society’s opinion of females, single or otherwise. I love being female. From pouts to purrs, my femininity is at the core of who I am . . . and I wouldn’t have it any other way.