What a 14-month-old taught me about being a woman from Robin

Many of my daughter Sarah’s friends, including Sarah herself, are at that point in their lives where they are having babies. I now have an nine-month-old granddaughter, with another granddaughter on the way. And so many of these new little souls are girls. Each baby carries her own personality and gifts, but what strikes me most is how delighted they are simply to exist. They assert their needs. They engage boldly with the world. They are funny, curious, and very proud when they master the next small thing. They are not self-conscious. They do not fear mistakes. In fact, they don’t even know what a mistake is. They live moment to moment, laughing, crying, reaching, trying again. They do not yet know how to feel bad about themselves. They do not yet have the language to be self-critical. The world is new, and they are soaking it in. 

Recently, I watched a video of my best friend’s 14-month-old granddaughter as she began to form an understanding of who she is. She stood tall, pointed to herself, and declared over and over: “Me, Lyra.” It touched me so. Here was this tiny human saying to the world: Here I am. I am me. And me is Lyra. So simple. So whole. So certain. 

For many years now, I have been helping women of all ages reconnect to that inner self. The self who once knew who she was, who wasn’t afraid of being disliked, who felt proud simply to exist. Over time, we gather layers. Expectations. Roles. Responsibilities. Stories about who we should be. Some of those layers protect us. Some of them dim us. The truth is that beneath all the layers we’ve accumulated, there is still that original self. Still bold. Still worthy. Still whole.
 
So, how about for Women’s History Month, we take our cue from little Lyra and  make it a daily practice to:
Stand tall. Breathe in. Point gently to our own heart.
And say:
“I am _______. And I am strong. I am resilient. I am proud.”

See how it feels to claim yourself again and let me know how it goes.