“Each time a woman stands up for herself, without knowing it possible, without claiming it, she stands up for all women.”  - Maya Angelou

Women have spent years fighting for equality; insistent on having the same rights as men.  They protested to secure a place in the world where they are no longer inferior to men.

We are determined to ensure our voices are heard.  After a long and challenging battle for equal opportunities, it is obvious that we demand respect and fair treatment.  

For many years, women held a much different role than they do today.  

We are grateful to the ones that stood up for what they believed in.  We are thankful for the voices of the past that demanded to be heard.  Where would we be today if those admirable women had stayed quiet?  You certainly would not be reading this!  You would be in the kitchen making a sandwich, barefoot and pregnant.  

Now, there’s nothing wrong with making the occasional sandwich, or going barefoot and having lots of babies…if that is what YOU choose to do.  Women should not be expected or required to have certain responsibilities due to their sex.  More importantly, they should never be silenced or judged.  We should be respected and know that our voices can make a difference in the world.

“We get asked for advice very often.  I’m not really sure why, since I feel unqualified to tell anyone else what they should do with their life, given mine is more often a circus than not.  Then I realize those are my insecurities talking.  

I have been through things in my life that others would not have survived.  Some of the worst things you can imagine, I have lived them.  They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger…I have repeated that to myself more times than I can count.     

Recently, I exchanged messages with one of our followers.  We went back and forth for a few days.  Once the interchanges ended, I was unable to get her off my mind.  I kept doubting if the advice I had given her was enough.  Did I relay what I truly meant, or was it lost in translation?  Did I do enough?  Did I say too much?  Did I not say enough?  Did she think I was an idiot?  Am I crazy for having this conversation with myself?  Probably so. 

I was doing my makeup, getting ready for a photoshoot, and it hit me.  While thinking to myself, “I wonder how bad I get on my husband’s nerves”,  I began to visualize the old me. I remembered the little girl that would never speak up - for herself or anyone else.  I always surrounded myself with extroverted, in your face style women.  The ones that you were slightly scared of, yet slightly turned on by.  I clung to those types of women because I knew that they would speak up for me when I lacked the nerve to do it myself. 

One day, I was all alone.  I no longer had any of those ladies in my life.  It was fight or flight for me.  I wish I could say that I charged on and took all I had learned from those big-mouthed women and set the world on fire.  However, that would be a lie.  I retreated back to my old self and my old ways.  I was seen and not heard; the way women are “supposed to be”. 

Then, all of a sudden, I woke up.  I had grown tired of that scared little girl.  I knew if I wanted something to change, I had to do it myself.  If I wanted to be heard, I needed to speak up.  

Why was I afraid to say what I felt or give my opinion?  Well, the explanation was simple.  I was led to believe that strong women are not able to be loved; loud women are annoying and unattractive. How was that?  I had known several “loud” women that were gorgeous and successful.  Some of them even had spouses that loved them.  

A woman’s worth should not be dependent on whether or not she is married. Why does speaking our mind have a negative connotation behind it?  If a man speaks his mind, he’s a leader.  However, a woman is expected to remain silent and know her place?  Interesting. 

As I continued to ponder if my husband actually loved me and my big mouth, or merely tolerated me because I am clean, career driven, kind of cute, and I am really good at...fishing.  I realized in that moment that it did not matter if my husband loved me or not.  His love does not define me.  Sure, I would be extremely sad to find out he didn’t.  But, would I die? No.  Would I miss him terribly if he left me?  Of course.  Would I survive?   Abso-freaking-lutely! 

Me, my stubbornness, loudmouth, and ability to fish quite well, would get by just fine.  What truly matters is that I love myself.  I respect every achievement and accomplishment, every battle and struggle that has gotten me where I am today.  I cherish every regret that made me the person I have become.  I appreciate my stretch marks, saggy skin, grey hairs, and wrinkles. 

I also respect my husband.  He respects me. 

He is the leader of our family and he wears the pants.  But sometimes, I wear them as well.  We are a team; one is no better or stronger than the other.  Physically, sometimes he is stronger, but mentally - I think I have him beat. 

We both have the utmost love and adoration for one another.  He appreciates my strong will, and I appreciate his gentle touch.  He loves my loudmouth and I am wild about his mysterious demeanor.  We complement each other; where he lacks, I possess and vice versa. 

Enough about me; back to this woman...

She was torn on what she should do about a particular situation.   Should she go with her gut and do what she wants, or should she listen to her husband and family on what they thought was best?  My advice to her was that she should do what makes HER happy.  

I could not help but think, “Did I just sign this poor woman’s divorce papers?” 

“Is her husband going to hunt me down and give me a piece of his mind?”

The real question was, “Why does it matter?”  I gave her my opinion.  I simply told her what I would do if I were in her situation.  What I gave her were mere suggestions.  What she did with them was her choice.  I could not understand why I was doubting myself.  Maybe she was like the old me, the one who needed someone to reassure her that she was allowed to say what she wanted.  Perhaps she needed someone to help her realize that she should use that beautiful voice God gave her for something other than yelling at her kids to clean their room and stop touching each other. 

If I could look this woman in the eyes, I would tell her to speak up.  I would point out how strong and beautiful and wonderful she is.  I would remind her that she deserves to be heard and to never let anyone control what she thinks, says, or does.  I would beg her to never let her voice be muted, to never succumb to society’s way of thinking that just because she has boobs that she isn’t intelligent.  I know plenty of men with bigger boobs than me and let me tell you - a few of them don’t have the sense God gave a goose!”  - April

 

Some of us draw our vitality from deep within the pain that has been inflicted upon us.  

Out of agony, we are able to grow the strongest of backbones.  There is no greater feeling than when your words are finally heard.  

 

“As a woman, finding my voice is still something I struggle with.  When it came time to write on this subject, my soul jumped with enthusiasm.  April told me, “Oh I know you have plenty to say on this topic! I’m not even worried about there being enough content.”

She was right!  

Women’s empowerment has my name written all over it.  This is a topic I have and will continue to fight for in honor of every woman who has felt unheard or has been made to feel as if her voice does not matter. 

From the time I was a child, my parents nicknamed me “Mouse”.  I had a small, quiet, and slightly squeaky voice.  However, I was never afraid to speak my mind - just ask my mom.  The older I got the less sure I became of my voice.  I experienced judgement, misunderstanding, and pain, which in turn changed how I spoke.  It changed in this way: I saw how nothing was done or no impact was made when I cried out in pain from the heartbreak of infidelity.  I felt ignored when I spoke of my feelings to discomfort with a situation and was mocked for saying anything. 

I felt ashamed when I was raped.  The shame turned to guilt, which deepened my silence.  I have been laughed at, scoffed, bullied, and harassed…broken down in every way, and with that I became less and less able to use my voice, until the day I gave up using it all together.  Defeat brought me to safety.  I soon found a safe place in keeping everything to myself.  An even scarier place to be, because now I was alone with my thoughts, my stories, my trauma, and my feelings. 

As life beat on my stubborn will, I began to believe that because I was so strong willed and confident, this was punishment for being too vocal.  Perhaps I was like a wild horse that needed to be tamed.  So, I succumbed to life’s will.  Then the unthinkable happened…I was sexually assaulted again.  

For whatever reason this was the time I felt I was most violated.  I was a grown woman; I was of my own free will now.  I was a whole human, that was still capable of having something taken from me without my permission.  Where was my voice?  I thought I had everything under control.  Did I really not?  My spirit felt numb with only a small spark.  I felt nothing but disappointment in myself.

It was the roaring voices of other women in my life, that flamed the spark until my fire grew again.  I found my voice and courage in a place I had crawled so far away from.  I barely recognized my once free speaking and vocal self, but there she was.  I came out of the shell of safety I had placed myself in, and I stood for every woman who had ever been in my shoes and for every woman that someday may. 

My voice began to come back when I realized nothing bad was going to happen, and I had nothing to fear when I spoke up for myself.  I was safe.  I could handle the backlash, I could handle the doubters, and I could handle the paranoia that inevitably always arises when the truth is spoken. 

It felt good to be free of something that restricted me out of fear.  Going into a dark corner alone, is a place I will never go back to.  I believe that when a woman stands for exactly who she is and where she is in life, she breaks every generational curse ever placed upon her family.  She breaks the cycle.  She sets a new standard for other women to follow her. 

If I could give one piece of advice to a young woman (or myself at 20 years old) just learning to figure life out, it would be this - listen to your intuition first, and never let fear hold you back from living.  You will look back someday and wish you would have done the things you wanted to.  Live as if judgement doesn’t exist.  Live as free as you can!”  - Loren

It is so important for women to lift each other up.  

Our strength should be commended.  

Our courage should be admired.  

Our successes should be inspirational to each other.  

Influence other women to find their power within.  Be kind to one another and inspire other women to let their voices be heard.

The only thing that should be silenced are your insecurities.

Be proud and fight for what you believe in!

We are woman, hear us roar...