The Power of SHE!

I’ve never truly considered myself a “toughy” ... having that “bad to the bone”, “you can’t touch this” kinda attitude that makes itself known by walking in front of me into a room.

Seems to me that true toughies, or rather, the aura of true toughies, makes grand entrances and exits in life.

I can see it now:

The aura of a badass stands all Wonder Woman-like. Legs apart. Hands on hips. Fists clenched. Shoulders broad. Mouth fixed. Eyes fierce.

She could be standing on the set of an old Western in front of those swinging doors, ready to enter the saloon with guns-a-blazin’.

Or, bustin’ her way through a crowd of situationally unaware people barking out orders and getting shit done.

I can envision this tough-girl aura strutting across a room filled with testosterone-producing men. Her head held high, hair pulled back in piggies and her ball cap sitting backwards on her head.

She doesn’t fit in, necessarily.

Oh, but she WILL fit in no matter what. Because her aura is iron clad, tough as nails, strong as steel. Her aura is her power.

It is the Power of SHE

Seems to me that I woke one day and it dawned on me ... I have the Power of SHE.

I don’t know how I got it.

I don't know if it was given to me as a gift. If I grew it on my own like some sort of seedling that turns into a full- blown towering tree. If it has always been there, hidden in my insides, full of potential but never playing an active roll in my life.

I think maybe it’s a byproduct of age ... one of the good byproducts.

On the Other Hand...

Oh, there are plenty of not-so-good, one-foot-in-the-grave, take-me-behind-the-shed-and-put-me-out-of-my-misery things that come with age.

For instance, how about menopause and all it’s nastiness?

MEN ... OH, PAUSE before you find your woman standing over you in the middle of the night holding a very sharp knife in the air, about to plummet it into your heart.

Yeah. That’s some kinda crazy, right there.

Or let’s talk about elephant skin, shall we? A gathering of the skin in places, like, at your knees for starters. Delightful, indeed.

Maybe your eyes decide to become blind as a bat...overnight.

Or the common saying of “my get up and go has gotten up and went.”

Dinner is at 4:30 pm. Bedtime is at 8:00 p.m. ... only to not sleep through the night and you drag your aging booty out of bed at 3:30am. And let’s just not discuss the aging booty. I’ll spare you the details.

But there’s some good stuff that comes alongside the passage of life-moments.

And, I believe all the good stuff adds up to create this incredible awakening to the Power of SHE.

Toughy Attributes

Perhaps I personally never recognized my own “toughy” attributes because I had not yet reached the pinnacle of age’s knowledge and understanding of self.

I had not yet let go of the bumbling attributes of youth and embraced the grace and empowerment of this (ahem, clearing of throat) more mature time of life.

Before I delve any further, you must know that I am all of 50 years young. I’ve crossed that half-a-century mark and am well aware that I am more than likely beyond what society calls mid-life.

If 50 were mid-life for me, then lets do the life expectancy would be 100. Sure, I might make it to 100. Several do. But then again, most don’t. So, suffice it to say, that I consider myself having already skedaddled past mid-life and have somehow launched myself into the “after mid life”.

What does society call that? The Twilight years? Who knows. And who really cares. All of that discourse to tell you that I am a mere 50.

And what to my wondering eyes does appear? A handful of good stuff. Gifts from the Universe, delivered only at this particular time of life.

To Name a Few ...


Oh yeah. Girl’s got some now. Girl knows who she is, finally, and waves her banner of Belief in Self. Confidence means (Con) With (Fid) Faith or Belief. Confidence: to move about with a faith or belief.

Never underestimate the complete and overwhelming empowerment of the belief or faith in one’s self.

All those youthful years I, along with the hoard of womankind, walked through life with a proverbial head-down mentality. Unsure of our value, our worth, our strength.

Little did we know that we held inside of us the Marvel Comic Book attributes of a super hero. Our confidence, though not fully developed during the days of our youth, would one day be the kryptonite to all of life’s villains.

“How do you like me now?”, I ask, head held high (not to be mistaken for haughtiness, which is an altogether disgusting alter ego to confidence) and eyes fixed on whatever I want to accomplish.

And the belief and absolute faith in my now non-youthful self adds quite a lump sum to my Power of SHE bank account.


I dare not tiptoe around this one, for it is, in a word, HUGE.

So here we go: Freedom from subversion by anyone’s attempt at control.

Be it a spouse, your EX, a co-worker, or that petulant woman who wants to hold you under her thumb because you walk to the beat of your own drum instead of in time to her sheet of music.

Or maybe it’s your parents who hold petty standards of living in your face and continue to criticize you for seeing the world differently.

Be it that social club that never finds room in their agenda for you because in truth you don’t look like them, or act like them, or buy the same handbag and matching shoes that they do.

Or maybe it’s the set-in-their-ways men you are dating that make you want to get off that roller coaster ride, and NOW.

Freedom from allowing your life’s script to be drafted by anyone’s pen except your own.

Freedom from hiding behind your past, your mistakes, your hang ups, your character flaws.

Freedom from anyone or anything or any habit or any opinion or any idea that would put baby in a corner and keep her there. My freedom, your freedom, HER freedom equals her power. The Power of SHE.


Not all strength needs to be visually physical in nature.

Physical strength is amazing, empowering, mind-blowing, conquer-the-worlding, and a woman who is further along the spectrum of life can most certainly create her strongest body ever.

But, at her age she also has developed strength of character and will. Strength of mind and spirit. Strength of her innerds, in addition to her outerds.

That wise ol’ bird knows a thing or two about life and has gone through a thing or two in life that has forced tension on her muscle power of heart and will. It has created hypertrophy ... a strengthening, a growing.

Now she stands a pillar of strength, having a heart of experiences that is, quite frankly, larger than life.

She knows the rights of life due to the wrongs that have been done to her.

Her character shines bright and true because of the darkness and the deceit she has seen.

Her mind gains strength from learning about life through the school of hard knocks.

Her spirit. Oh the rising up of her spirit is probably the most beautiful display of strength there is.

Resilience. Resolve. Drive. Determination to Live, to Love, to Laugh.

Her Power of SHE rests securely on the balustrades of her new-found strength.


By this stage of the game most women are tired of not being who they know themselves to be ... tired of cow-towing under anyone else’s definition of who they are.

I, myself, have grown weary of living to the standard of make-believe ... that thought process in another person’s head of who they “think” I am or should be.

I simply want to BE.

The State of Being. Existing. As is. Who am I? I am a heart- driven, full of emotion and passion woman who loves time to herself and craves independence.

I am a word nerd and move through my life with creativity and not always well-thought-out plans or agendas.

I have no need to play a part or look a part or blend in with the Joneses.

Shallow is not the name of the game for me and if you plan to keep me there, then I’d gladly walk away.

I adore humor and laughter ... all the way to my gut and have disdain for hyper-seriousness and an air of judgment and will write you off if you reveal piety of any flavor.

I am a show-er of grace and mercy and compassion.

I have an internal drive that pushes me to better myself without, or shall I say, in spite of, any input or criticism from you.

I hold onto those whom I have let into the fiber of my being and it takes a cutting-me-loose event for me to ever let go of you.

I have a deeply spiritual side, holding a deep faith in the God who made me who I am.

My Power of SHE is vibrantly colored in neon with hopes that its contagious light will seep into the dark places of others.

And Finally ...


It's the state of being truly alive. A woman who comes alive has a power beyond measure. She is electrifying through and through. She becomes a force with which to be reckoned. She is turned up to high voltage.

No more in between, half life.

Woe to the one who tries to squelch her, to force her to become numb, disinterested, status quo, domesticated, unfeeling, dead.

That Power of She will stir up a hurricane of disaster to those who kill her spirit.

She will be forced to use her Power of She, however not for good but for evil against all enemies who threaten it.

Her awakening grants her use of her wings.

Be wise, you who share life alongside her. Allow her to fly. Do not be threatened by her desire to spread her wings and soar way above the ground where she has resided, even if her residence has been at your side.

Free her. Let her go. She will return to you.

But hinder her vitality, her awakening, label it or criticize it or squash it and she will die to you forever.

The Power of SHE is fueled by her own from slumber, her state of being truly and wonderfully alive.


I suppose on so many levels I am, indeed, a “toughy” after all. And so are you, dear lady. Yours and my laugh lines, precarious skeletal cracking noises, suspicious age spots, our shared mid-life crisis moments, the evidence of a little crazy here and there, our mutual brain fog, night sweats, aching backs and hairdo catastrophes are all part and parcel to living in the wisdom years. We won’t call it old age. In fact, we just won’t use those two terms at all ... Old and Age. We are seasoned. Well rooted and well adjusted. We have grace and class mixed in with a little cray cray now and then. We have depth beyond belief and wisdom available when we need it. We have at our fingertips a wealth of knowledge and experience and have run entire households

with a never empty coffee mug in one hand, one of the kids’ light sabers in the other and a survival kit attached to our backs.

So go on with your bad self. Rip open that hero cape to reveal that letter S embroidered on your black muscle T-shirt, flex those guns and may the Power of SHE rule the day from this day forth!

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