A black stretch limo arrived in front of the elementary school. I stood off to the side--proudly--with the five other girls in my class not invited to the birthday festivities of a self-professed 4th grade "popular" girl.
They didn't have a term for it in 1999, but the blond-haired girl that popped her head out of limo and sneered at me as it drove by was my very first 'frenemy'.
Depending on what suited her agenda, she might ask me to spend recess walking through the crowded playground with her and her devoted groupies. Generally, I turned her offer down. I knew her ulterior motives. She wanted to spend 20 minutes of her day picking on someone and I was always an easy target. My clothes were purchased from the thrift store, I was sensitive and extremely gullible.
Other times, she wanted to use me to get something she couldn't obtain on her own. Mainly good grades. She could turn on the charm while trying to win me over. It never worked. I may have been gullible, but I knew when someone was treating me poorly. I give her all the credit for teaching me the power of saying the word, "No."
I was not invited to her birthday party in the 4th grade because I told one of her groupies--who also happened to be just another target for her cruel games--that I didn't like the ring leader of the "popular" crowd. She ran back to the Queen Bee and told her everything I said.
Later that day, as I was eating lunch with a group of boys I played basketball with, Queen Bee walked over to where I sat and crossed her arms.
"So-and-so said you don't like me. Did you really say that?" she snarled.
"Yes, I did," I replied as I took a big bite out of my peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
"Why don't you like me?"
"Because you're mean to everyone," I bluntly stated.
"You're not invited to my birthday party!" she screamed at the top of her lungs.
I shrugged and finished my peanut butter and jelly while she spent the better part of the day obsessing over the fact that someone she didn't like, did not like her. Then it became her sole mission in life to make sure everyone else didn't like me either.
And so it began...
I've come into contact with thousands of women over the years. And I always seem to run into a few self-proclaimed popular girls who have grown up into, for lack of a better word, mean girls. They'll be nice to my face then immediately turn around and attempt to turn everyone they know against me. I've just never understood that. I've never understood this idea that we--as women--are supposed to constantly compete for friends, men, careers, positions, etc.
Not all ladies are like this; I'm blessed to know several who aren't. But regardless of where I go or what I do, another woman is determined to compete with me. And it frustrates me.
I suppose I understand something they don't: we are all different. Every single person who wanders this earth comes from a different background, story, family. And I like that we're all different. We all have a unique view on life and that can be an asset to our relationships with others.
And so the question remains: Ladies, why are we always competing with each other?
If I were to guess, I'd say it has a lot to do with our childhoods--
and mainly our mothers. I'm grateful I was raised by a woman who was never interested in competing or stealing what other women had. She raised me to love everyone and to avoid the people who actively hurt me. She also taught me to love myself and appreciate that I am entirely, uniquely me, even though she often thought I was a little too loud.
I watch the way women treat other women. Their daughters--both young and grown--are watching, too. Which leads me to this point:
Your daughters are watching you.
They're watching you be kind to someone's face, and then turn around and tear them down. They're watching the way you treat women who are different from you. They see you laugh at her clothes and the way she wears her hair. They see you trade kind words for harsh ones. They're watching you show favoritism to women who you believe can advance you because of their financial resources or positions while ignoring the women who can do absolutely nothing for you because you see no value in them.
They are learning how to treat other women from you.
I'm just going to be honest with you, ladies,
we need to actively love each other better. I'm not saying we just need to be nicer to each other's faces--though we should always aim to be kind to each other; I'm saying we need to change our view of other women entirely so we can, in turn, change the way our daughters will view one another someday.
If you don't like someone, keep it to yourself. It's not your job to tell the world what their faults are. It's not your job to tear her down because she offended you. It's not your job to punish her. Ever.
Your job is to extend kindness to the women who offer you none so your daughter learns to offer it to everyone she comes into contact with regardless of how they treat her.
Your job is to teach your daughter that every woman has value--no matter how lowly her position in life is. Your daughter will love you for teaching her the value of being tender-hearted and she will be eternally grateful to you for helping her see the good in everyone.
Your job is to never speak ill of anyone so you will be blameless and pure in everyone's sights, including your daughter's. This is Bible truth ladies! Check out
Philippians 2:14-15.
Your job is change the world one woman at a time. Start with yourself, and then encourage that change in your daughter. You have the power to affect change--so do it!
Ladies, stop competing! Let's replace any type of ill feelings towards one another with prayer and good thoughts. You can't be angry with another woman when you're communicating with the Creator about her well-being. Pray for her faith, relationships, health, strength, humility and attitude towards other women.
Prayer changes things. It changes us first, and then it changes the people around us.
Be unapologetically you. And help the women in your life to embrace who they are, too. The more we embrace one another, the less we're competing. And that's a good thing.
--Jessica