Not Afraid to be Bad-Ass
I’ve never felt more bad-ass than when birthing my babies. I LOVE sharing my birth stories and I am passionate about the birthing process. My birth stories are very unique and I'm sure I would make it in some kind of record book if there was one. I am very aware, though, of how sensitive the topic of birth and birthing can be amongst moms in our culture today so I have learned to approach this subject with caution. I usually only share my experiences with those who ask or when I feel I am in a safe place to share openly.
A few years ago I candidly shared with another mom I had recently met about one of my births and how fast it was. This mom had also had a home birth that went pretty quick so I was excited for an opportunity to share my story in a "safe" place. This woman quickly chided me saying that she "doesn't like to compare" births with the implication that women would feel less than or better than based on the kind of birth they had. Her comment rendered me speechless at the time and created some uncomfortable tension in the room.
This encounter really bothered me for a while and I felt very defensive in my heart over it. I knew my intentions were not to make another mother feel less than but what if she was right? What if I was just comparing other mothers to myself and implying that I am the "better birther"?
A couple of years later, after getting back in touch with my own heart, dealing with some shame stuff and learning how to put healthy boundaries around my heart (a.k.a. loving myself) I was able to put this encounter into perspective.
In a sense she was right and I admire her heart of justice for other women. But no one should have to dim their own light for the sake of someone else. My births are a part of my life story. In fact, they are a very redeeming part of my story. I do not want to shy away from sharing the redemptive moments in my life because I’m afraid of how it will make someone else feel. I want to celebrate those moments and I want others to celebrate it with me, especially women.
So, here it goes...I will say it boldly, without fear: I have birthed five babies without drugs, four of them I birthed breech at home...and that is pretty darn bad-ass, don’t you think!?
I no longer want to tip-toe cautiously around other women because I’m afraid of stepping on their toes. And it’s not because I don’t care, it’s because I DO care, very much. I care because I want to see other women doing the same. I want women to feel the same freedom, that they can boldly share, without fear, every amazing bad-ass thing about themselves.
This kind of boldness comes with a responsibility though. If I really do want other women to celebrate themselves, unhindered, then I am accountable to where I put my feet. Am I standing in the way of their celebration? Will my toes get stepped on? Will I be offended? Most of all, will it cause me pain? Yes, there may be pain involved but it’s not because someone else caused it, their celebration has only triggered it. It’s my job to own my own pain and process through it instead of placing the blame on someone else.
If part of loving myself means that I am not afraid to be bad-ass then I must not be afraid of letting other women be bad-ass too.