Response To the Facebook Thread asking me to say anything about womanhood

The first time my heart beat was inside a woman’s womb. The first person to feed me was a woman, and the sole witness to my first word was a woman. The immigrant who kept me out of mischief while my parents worked was a woman. And the teacher who taught me how to spell ‘Octopus’? Also a woman. The caregiver who taught me self-reliance way too early, but taught me nonetheless, was a woman. The tears I’ve shed have been evoked mostly by women. Still, my triumphs could not have been achieved without the security of a safety net comprised of mostly women below. I’ve seen my reflection with no distortion in the eyes of my closest female friends.
As a result of all of the above, that little voice in the back of my head telling me ‘I CAN’, giving me strength, courage, wisdom; humor, joy, epiphany;sorrow, empathy, motivation; ambition, confidence, curiosity; identity; is the crafted, collective creation of women building me up and breaking me down and for better or worse making me, Me. We are all little compilations of great women. To the person who doesn’t like a woman, I have no margin to argue with a subjective opinion of a singular person; but to the person who dare say ‘ Women are _____’ , i’d argue is not only insulting the family and community that nurtured them, but also expressing self-doubt. Afterall, if a shade of red is off hugh, then its combination and creation of any secondary color will deviate too.