Woman is a loaded word. Surrounded by biological, social, cultural and political connotations, gender has become an integral facet of self-identity. Regardless of the positive or negative aspects of that statement, I have been blessed in my life with endless examples of what it means to be a woman. The females that fill my life are diverse and unique in our relationships, in their backgrounds and in their opinions, and, yet, even in their distinctive individualities, they synergize to form a cohesive model of a lady. So, to all the women in my life, thank you.

Thank you for showing me what strong looks like. Thank you for showing me an unabashed ferocity, a strength that stems from an understanding what is best is not always what is easiest. Strength is a mother-bear roar or the ability to stay silent when everything inside me is begging to make a scene. The power you demonstrated in standing up for yourselves and the things you believe, even when you stood alone, forms the foundation of my definition of a warrior.

Thank you for showing me vulnerability. There is no shame in crying. There is nothing wrong with feeling fear or anger or jealousy. Vulnerable does not mean weak; vulnerable means strong enough to acknowledge that you cannot always hold the world on your shoulders. Thank you for teaching me it is ok to reach out when everything gets to be too much and for providing endless models of the kind of person someone feels comfortable reaching out to.

Thank you for being wrong. Your willingness to make mistakes sets the precedent of sense of self that I aspire to on a daily basis. The risks I take are the results of the bravery I have seen come before me.

Thank you for showing me that woman is not a label I wear as a handicap. That sexism and catcalling are not something I passively accept when the doctor puts an X next to the capital F on my birth certificate. You taught me it was never wrong to advocate for myself, and that standing apart from the crowd merely meant that my voice could be distinguished from others. You did not put a feminine ending on my career options or object when I chose Tai Kwan Do over ballet. You taught me that there is no wrong way to have a body, only a wrong way to honor it.

To my friends, cousins, professors, mentors, aunts, grandmothers, sister and mother, thank you for constantly refining and reinvigorating what it means to be a woman.