Photo by oedipusphinx — — — — theJWDban
I have been surrounded by women all my life. My father taught me from early on to respect and honor women. I grew up as the only son with four sisters. I work with struggling teenage young women and their families in a company where about 75% of the people I work with are women. And as if that weren’t enough I have a daughter as my first-born!
I am concerned that occasionally some women in our world lose sight of their worth and divinity. I am concerned that in the face of continual bombardment by negative media and degrading media-driven philosophies about femininity some of our sisters falter in their assessment of themselves.
Shame is toxic. Women become poisoned with self-pity, inordinate guilt, and feelings of inadequacy. We can and should help the women and girls in our lives to thwart the debilitating effects of shame by encouraging them to engage in three rejuvenating, shame-alleviating activities:
1) developing healthy relationships with other women with like values;
2) cultivating spirituality through activities that re-connect them with their higher power; and
3) teaching them effective ways to self-nurture, then allowing them time to do it.
Women and girls don’t “need a man” to feel better. They don’t need a chocolate sundae. They need relationships of trust which inspire a sense of love and hope in their souls again. That’s why the three suggestions above deal with the three most important relationships a woman can have: female friends, higher power, and self.
Photo by jurvetson
It’s not only identity which suffers when girls are in pain. The pain threatens the very idea of their self-worth. At her core, a young woman begins to lose hope in the value she brings to the world and her family and friends. She loses touch with the infinite part of herself – the part which cannot be measured and which is invaluable.
Many months ago I led a group therapy session and brought a strand of my mother’s pearls with me. I pulled the milky-white chain out of my pocket and held it up to the ten young women seated in a circle near me. I explained that I had inherited the pearls after my mother died. My father had purchased them for her in Thailand while he was stationed there during the Vietnam War. Furthermore, I said, I was going to give the pearls to my daughter when she turns 16. I added that I thought it interesting that my daughter’s birthstone happens to be “pearl”.
After allowing them each to hold the strand, I asked them what they thought the pearls were worth. “Are they real?” one asked.
“Yes. What do you imagine they are worth?”
“Do you mean how much they’re worth in dollars?”
“No, in value to me.”
“You can’t put a price on that!” one said. “You have to consider what they were worth to your father, too,” another said. “And to your daughter,” a third added. They all seemed to agree.
Having established the high value of the pearls, I tossed the strand on the wet and muddy floor. The girls were stunned. One stared at me as if I had gone out of my mind.
“What are they worth now?” I asked. “Have they lost any value?”
“No,” was the quick reply.
I stepped on the pearls and used the sole of my shoe to rub the strand around on the dirty floor. I even stood up, my foot firmly planted on the pearls. This time the girls were angry. “What’s wrong with you?” one said. Her voice was loud. “Why are you doing that?” another yelled, and others echoed her question.
I ignored them. “Have the pearls lost any value now? They’re dirtier. And certainly you would agree that stepping on them has made them worth less. Treating pearls like this cheapens them, right?”
“You’re crazy!” one said.
“You don’t deserve those pearls!” said another. “What would your mother think? Your daughter’s going to kill you!”
Ignoring their outrage for the moment, I pressed them to answer my question about the value of the pearls. All agreed that the pearls had not lost their value. We discussed the similarity between the pearls and their own lives. Many felt downtrodden, dirty, and abused, like my mother’s pearls. Many, if not all, had lost sight of their intrinsic value.Understanding spread across their faces as they applied the object lesson to their own lives.Similarly, treating young women requires us to see beyond the surface. As we submerge ourselves deeper beneath the cold reality of the presenting behavior, what appears at first to be a significant outcropping of jagged, icy moodiness above the surface reveals itself to be a vast, confused form of frigid misunderstanding, confusion, and despair. We can never help a young woman heal if we don’t acknowledge the true nature of the problem, as well as its scope. That said, it is important to remember that the problem may appear bigger than she is, but it is critical that we communicate to her that, with help, nothing is impossible to overcome.
