Embracing Emotion & Soft Femininity — Better Every Day
There’s a popular trend right now about independent women moving out of their masculine state into a state of surrendered femininity — usually at the hands of a man who showed them what they needed and brought them peace. I love this trend. I’m a part of this trend. However, I can’t really credit a romantic counterpart with getting me there; this has been a function of God working in my heart and showing me who He designed me to be.
A big part of discovering my femininity and rejecting the toxic independence that I was formerly accustomed to has been learning how to deal with conflict in a healthy way. I.e., talking through my feelings without exploding, owning and sharing my emotions without letting them conquer me, and having difficult conversations without allowing bridges to be burned. Communication is always a two-way street, and I cannot guarantee the responses of others, but I have made it a priority to work through my own self-perceptions and grow in such a way that makes me a better and more gracious person, even (and maybe even especially) in conflict.
I am a perfect example of how negative talk over a child can impact them. My parents routinely dubbed me “difficult,” “rebellious,” and “over-dramatic,” and those titles rendered me to a mindset in my early twenties that toggled somewhere between “I’m a bitch, and proud of it,” and “I will never stand up for myself unless I have so much pent up frustration that I have an angry outburst.”
One of the biggest blessings in my life has been having parents who have grown with me, and repented for however little trauma they were responsible for in my life (my childhood was almost perfectly golden, but what wasn’t is being worked through in beautiful and empathetic ways) — and honestly, I’m repenting too because I know raising me was probably traumatic. A big part of the healing is having honest conversations about feelings and validating them together, as a family unit.
A lot of my difficulty also stems from who I am as a person — a neurotic oldest daughter with generational anger management problems, a tortured intellectual, and a touch of narcissism that I must constantly rebuke. Fighting the core of my sin nature and being aware of the root of responses or tendencies has really helped me to embrace growth, rather than being intimidated by all the upward progress I needed (and still need) to make.
A significant area of insecurity in my life comes from the environment in which I grew up. I was home schooled, and while my parents raised me to be independent and self-sufficient, many of the mothers whom I was exposed to (especially at church) treated me like a pariah because I wasn’t quiet and submissive like they expected their daughters to be. I was loud, vibrant, assertive, intelligent, and I loved nothing more than challenging the norm. I was very respectful and honorable, but I bucked illegitimate authority and questioned rules that didn’t have any logical basis. As a result, I was often made to feel like I was a failure in terms of my gender. My natural capabilities for meekness, nurture, and gentleness were limited. To this day, I do better (and feel FAR more comfortable) in front of a board of investors than a baby.
This year, I’ve seen who the Lord wants me to be: nurturing, feminine, and gentle, while also investing the talents He has given me across leadership and business. I believe He has put a significant calling on my life; one I intend to chase and fulfill to the best of my ability. I’ve grown so much even just in the last 10 months. It’s been breathtaking to see. I’ve starting taking ownership of my emotions, acknowledging them instead of stuffing them, and breaking down dependencies I’d formed (anger, alcohol, obsessive TV watching, Instagram addiction, etc) in an effort to emotionally mitigate. I spend a lot of time addressing the discomfort of my emotions and sitting with them, asking God to hold them and direct them where He wants them to go.
This weekend, I got a text that wasn’t intended for me but was about me, and it painted me in a light that sent me spiraling. I went to lunch with some friends and pretended I was fine, but on the way back, while talking to my mom, I burst into uncontrollable tears. I was so hurt by what that text said because it portrayed me as an unfeeling monster. It portrayed me as abusive. It was delivered without any situational context and the perception of the sender was clear. I was crushed. It affirmed, and even dug up, many of the things I hate about myself. It brought to the surface my insecurities about my relationship with my little sister, who barely tolerates me right now unless she needs my assistance with something. It brought to the surface these masculine tendencies towards aggressiveness and directness that I more readily exhibit than grace.
Long story short, it made me believe that all the work I’ve done has been in vain. That I’m a monster, and I always will be. That I will never be the kind of woman with whom a Godly man desires to build a family.
I responded in kindness. The sender gaslit me. They took no ownership for their words, and it didn’t stop me from crying all afternoon and evening. At one point, I sat on the floor and listened to “I Will Exalt You” from Maverick City; my hands lifted up in supplication, sobbing so violently that I couldn’t breathe. I spent time in worship, grieving with the Lord, and asking Him to help me become more like Him.
I called my best friend and cried when I told her what happened, and how it made me feel. Her responses poured life into me. “You are such a nurturer. I’ve seen you grow leaps and bounds this year. You were there for me in a way that exceeded my expectations when my dad died. My children adore you. My mother adores you. My father thought the world of you. You’re an incredible woman and an incredible best friend.” All of the things I needed to hear to feel whole again. I wiped the tears off my face and decided to tap into my feminine state. I selected a new recipe and made a pasta dish. I sat on the back porch, taking in the sunset and enjoying the sounds of the evening. I prayed, and talked to God about my feelings. The hurt, the sadness. My desires and dreams. Who I want to be, and who He wants me to be.
What started off as a truly awful day turned into a somber, but incredibly healing, evening. That day taught me to embrace my emotions, to feel them deeply, to reach out to people who lift me up when I am hurting. I learned to cry to the Lord, to filter out the lies of the devil, and to take my hurt and turn it into growth. Something so hurtful became a growing moment for me.
Now, I’m trying to grow through the emotional aftermath. I’m praying to exchange anger for love. I’m pushing myself to communicate in a way that is loving, but truthful. And I’m challenging myself to not buy into the rhetoric of shame — even though there’s a piece of me that is ashamed of how one little text could send me spiraling. It’s okay that this was my breaking point. The Lord built me back stronger. Onward and upward, and better every single day.
I am so grateful for what He has taught me this year and every year, and especially for what He taught me this weekend. I am loving, gentle, nurturing, and kind. I am fierce, independent, strong, and capable. I can be all of these at once. He designed me with layers and facets, like a kaleidoscope. I will embrace His beautiful, ornate design. I become more like His model for womanhood every single day, and I’m ecstatic for the work He does in my heart to make me more like Him.
This is only just the beginning.
