As I walk into my office, I see all the ladies looking more spectacular than usual in varying hues of pink. I’m confused for a while, and it’s only when I settle down for a nine hour session of socializing with my computer that I notice a yellow Post-it note stuck to the side of my cabin. “Every day, remind yourself that YOU are the best. Happy Women’s Day!” I smile at the gesture. Well, I’m not sure I’m ready to graduate from girl to woman quite yet, but I guess I’m getting there if not in maturity, then by age. While I’m tempted to point out the facetiousness of this commercially packaged day, that’s being milked to the nines by beauty salons and night clubs offering ‘special discounts for women’, I decide to take a deep breath and just bask in the glory. I absolutely love being a woman; there is no question about it. Excuse me as I succumb to all the female stereotypes out there, but I love the sheer variety of clothing options. I love my punishing stilettos. I love curling up with a mindless chick-lit novel and I love that I can throw a guy off with a smile. Of course, if you’re a guy who loves to do all these things, well more power to you Sire.
I am incredibly lucky to be born with the privilege of equality, or something close to it anyway. I have had every opportunity accessible to me, most of this thanks to my parents. I have been allowed to do things that I guess most boys’ wouldn’t have been able to do. I have been given the freedom to dream, and the means to fulfill those dreams. I realize that there are so many women in the country who are prisoners of their birth. Held by the shackles of poverty, discrimination and bias, what can a woman do? I hope that there will come a day when the distinction of being a man or a woman becomes irrelevant. The day when being a woman is not a disability that we have to fight all our lives, but a blessing.