“The heart of feminity, in essence, is vulnerability.”
I was paddle-boarding with a friend yesterday down a stretch of Lady Bird Lake. It was a gloriously hot day and we had peeled down to our swimsuits, ready for water, sun, and exercise.
A., is one of my newest friends, a magical girl from Hawaii who has the laid back personality of someone who has spent many years on the water. We hit it off a few weeks ago with a mutual love for whimsy, adventure, and analyzing things. Watch out world! One of the most interesting things about A., is that she also brings the insight of a relationship coach.
Yes, a relationship coach. I wasn’t sure what that meant, so I asked her.
“I got to teach women what it means to be feminine.”
Interesting. Oh so interesting.
We paddled down the lake, discussing dates gone bad, the things we wished we would have known years ago, the new mores we have to navigate in Texas, and what it means to embrace your femininity.
I grew up in the shadow of older brothers and I always just wanted to be one of the guys. Masculinity was what my parents knew. Dad raised all five of his daughters to be able to support themselves if they needed to. As the oldest (aka, the guinea pig), I learned how to sheetrock, build decks, change the oil on the car, and all sorts of other typically masculine things.
I’m not the only one it turns out.
“Caitlin,” my fabulous paddling buddy said, “Of course we want to do those things for ourselves. That’s normal. But here’s the beauty of being a woman – we don’t have to if we don’t want to. If a man wants to offer his strength to do things that yes, I am fully capable of doing on my own, I’d be an idiot not to let him do that.”
I thought about what she was saying. We were at mile 3 of our paddle adventure and neither one of us had brought water. Big mistake. That would have been the perfect time for a hero.
I thought about all the times I was at the airport last year. How when I first began to travel, I was used to shouldering my luggage and just going. I remembered a trip to Europe where I wanted to be one of the guys and I kept hauling a too-heavy case. Silly me. I recalled when I learned to let people help me. The first business trip when some kind man offered to stow my luggage for me. I was so shocked that of course I said yes. After that, I learned to not say no. Why would I discourage them from manning up? The world needs more men. I certainly don’t want to cut them down.
The paddles slipped in and out of the water. I remembered all the times I had fought to be one of the guys. All the times I had pushed myself too far and gotten injured because of it. I remembered my friend Luke telling me gently to just let him be a man and help me with a project.
And suddenly, it all made sense.
It’s not that women are weak. It’s not that we’re incapable of changing things. It’s not that we can’t use power tools just as well. It’s about affirming. About letting someone else care for you through their strength. Inviting masculinity with your femininity.
And that’s hard. The heart of femininity. Being vulnerable. And it sucks, it’s a struggle, and it’s worth it.
