Women, I haven’t been very nice to you. I’ve judged you from afar and to your face. I’ve talked behind your back, kicked you when you were down instead of helping you back up, and thrown salt in your wounds. Time and time again I have been a coward; I didn’t stand up for what is right and prefered to shrink back into the shadows rather than come into the light and help you. Instead of extending grace and support and empathy, I attacked out of fear and close-mindedness for no reason other than I felt angry. What does that say about me? It unveils my insecurities and the messy, scarred parts of my character. We all have them, but it’s up to us to keep them at bay.

I’m so, so sorry.

We should not root against each other. As we’ve grown up we have forgotten the simple gift that is talking to a female friend without passive aggressive comments or gossiping. In our quest to be The Most Right At Life we’ve pushed away the people that might be our biggest cheerleaders.

It’s hard to let go of what bothers us. It’s hard to forgive someone when they unintentionally insult us. Women are emotional people and this is a blessing and a curse. I’ve had many conversations that revolved around being wronged when the person that did the wronging had no idea she had done so. Why do I vent my angst to others instead of confronting the situation? It’s more fun, maybe. I need an army to validate my feelings. It feels good when I can spur up some indignation at injustice, particularly if that injustice is mine.

In no circle is this atmosphere of gossip and hatred more prevalent than among new mothers. I’m not a mother and have no idea what it’s like to love something more than myself, but I’ve seen a certain air of superiority unfold time and time again and I’ve had enough. I’ve seen it from the outside and I hate it.

I don’t care what your child wears as a diaper as long as she is kind. I don’t care if you co-sleep as long as your child is empathetic and giving. As long as your child grows up to be a strong, independent thinker that knows right from wrong, I don’t care if you feed your baby liquified Cheetos.

Perhaps the issue of raising children is so divisive because it’s so important, but I would argue that there are more important issues at hand than whether or not your child was extracted out of your vagina via vacuum or out of your uterus via c-section. Your child will learn from you and from those with whom you surround yourself. She will hear you speak to strangers, to family members, to herself. What does it say to them when we’re so quick to pick a fight over something that, in five years, will mean very little? It’s important that we model for our children the kind of person we want them to become despite the people we are.

I know the kind of person I am. I am learning how to be better. I am learning how to find satisfaction beyond this limited world. I am learning how to stick to my guns and to correct without judgmental undertones. I am learning to let the little things go. I am learning that nothing is more important in this life than the way we treat other people; we should love our neighbors as we love ourselves. We should treat ourselves and each other as if we were precious. We so are.

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