A Woman's Heart

I grew up, as I like to say, the oldest of three boys. Raised by my father to be no different, my feminity perceived, I think, as a weakness that made him fearful for me, he denied it to himself. Sensing some safety there, I think, I denied it to myself. So, after living somewhat comfortably in the company of males most of my life, I am surprised to find that simply, and obviously, I have the tender heart of a woman.

I don't really know if it is different from a man's heart because it's the only one I have. But I do know that it is close to the surface, touched by all that touches me, tender, open, and yet, fierce and full of fire, full of yearnings, full of questions. I do know that if you touch me, I'll feel it in my heart, and that it may be beautiful and it may cause pain, but I will feel it.

This sudden epiphany leads me to consider all of my connections with the people in my life, past, present and future. To open up is to take a chance on pain. To close myself to avoid pain is to bury my soul in a premature grave, marked with my least favorite words: "I can't." What I know about myself is that I can. I can take chances; a woman's heart is resillient. We love in order to give, to feel, to be felt, perceived, realized, to realize ourselves, to connect to other hearts and feel the heat of those essential, vital connections, to be human, to be a woman, to be alive.

A woman's heart is a precious thing. I haven't always known how to protect it, or even that I should, that its' nature is to be open and vulnerable, though I did, I think, sense the resillience and the strength. It doesn't break. But my bones have never broken, and I'm not about to jump off the roof of my house to see how much they can take. Nor will I or should I do that with my heart. It comes equipped with a light to shine on those who I might allow to touch it, and I do and need to use that light to illuminate my path. The wisdom revealed in that light guides me through the choices I make on my journey.

It makes me cautious, but it is what allows me to remain open for the business of life, the business of the heart, open to my fellow travellers, open to the knowledge that some of them will walk with me always, and some can only stay on the same road for part of the journey. And I can know and welcome both, knowing that only time will tell me which is which, and that whatever pain comes from parting ways, the value of even companions who only touch us briefly is greater. And I know with that same heart that I will look for the good, find it, enjoy it, and survive whatever inevitable pain comes with being open to it.