Even though I loved women, I had always been afraid of them. The women who raised me (and the women who raised them) were intensely fierce. I felt overwhelmed by them. I had an aversion to their stoicism but was also fascinated by it. Naturally, I wanted to be like them.
As I got older I not only wanted to spend time with women, I also needed to hear their stories. I was in awe of their beauty, wise knowing, and generosity.
Then someone spoke to me of sisterhood and I heard it differently, as if for the first time. I became aware that I’d been confused about how to relate to other women. Perhaps I had felt invisible. I think many women feel this way.
There were distinct moments when I remembered who I was and it was often during interactions with women. But I didn’t know how to make sense of this until I could let go of my own fear of being seen, of claiming my own feminine wisdom.