I am woman

Today is International Women's Day.

It feels complicated and heavy this year.

Maybe I don't feel like celebrating because no matter how many strong women are highlighted in my Facebook feed, we still have so far to go.

A misogynistic rapist in the White House. Harvey Weinstein, Louis CK, Kevin Spacey, Mario Batali, Sherman Alexie.

Dick pics and demands in my inbox, her inbox, all the inboxes.

None of it new, none of it stuff I haven't written about or been considering for months.

It's... discouraging.

The climate right now for women seems as grey as the Washington sky today.

My inspiration gland must be out of service for the day.

Maybe I don't feel like celebrating because just when I've kind-of-maybe-sort-of figured out how to be strong, and who I am, things are changing.

It seems I've reached a certain age and my endocrine system has begun the transformation from lazy river to roller coaster.

I noticed recently that I'm more bothered by violence than I used to be.

Criminal Minds has been one of my favorite shows for years, and I haven't watched it in months.

I watched a preview for Red Sparrow, typically the kind of movie I'd be into, and all I could think was that it looked really violent.

I am tired. It seems like so many people are hurting.

Things with a capital T going on at work have left me to sit in on interviews with employees, then re-live them, re-re-live them as I transcribe.

I thought I was finished, but today there were two final interviews.

My empathy on overdrive, I return to my desk with a heavy heart and zero spoons.

I suppose it is my day.

After all, I am woman.

You may try to hear me roar but today I think my throat just sings the low sweet melancholy chords of rainy afternoons.

Still, even on this muted Thursday, I carry within my heart a deep and indescribable love for the dozens of women in my life who inspire me, whose words and breaths I absorb. 

I ingest the things their eyes convey- strength, love, pain, power, like a gift from so many goddesses.

My ambrosia.

Life is complicated, and so are we all. 

I am not sad.  I am not happy.  I feel... matte.

I embrace my lack of shine just for the day, for the evening. 

I don't worry.

The glimmer always returns.