Celebrating sisterhood
Happy International Women’s Day! Women have been treated lesser than men for centuries, even though we’re the gender capable of carrying a life in our wombs and giving birth. And even though, all men have needed their mother to love them. While I don’t mind that men take the fight for security instead of me, that we should be treated as equally worthy, shouldn’t even have to be an issue nowadays! But, instead of going on and on about how awful it has been and how much women have had to sacrifice in their pursuit of a career, in addition to keeping up their womanhood and beauty, I’m going to focus on the importance of sisterhood. After all, if we can’t show one another support and compassion, how could we ever teach men to?

Sisterhood to me, is to have in mind that the women around us, especially those we might be in a conflict with or don’t know so well, have too been discriminated against and treated poorly just like ourselves, or even worse. There is something sacred about recognizing our inherent worth as women together, without the competition, envy and gossip. It can feel so much more offensive, when a woman goes against another woman. A man might not know better or understand better or simply even be a lost cause (although I don’t really want to believe that), or just insecure about how to deal with his and our sexual desire. But that a fellow woman can’t respect another’s right to get her needs met, and be treated with dignity and respect, can only be because of two reasons. Either, she is more oppressed than you are, more institutionalized in the manner of taking on men’s bad ways of treating women and internalizing these ways into her own, becoming taught to, without awareness and discernment. Or, she is being evil.
It’s so sad and annoying when women keep comparing themselves to others’ looks. I used to be a very skinny woman. My entire life, I’ve had to struggle to gain weight and could eat whatever I wanted and when, without ever, any of it showing. Meanwhile, many of my friends, and a fellow dancer in my early 20’s especially, would go through my cupboard and fridge in the kitchen to check what I was eating, while she struggled with bulimia thinking she could gain fellowship in gulping down package after package of ice-cream before forcing it up again. I would never. Outwardly, she was beautiful as a doll, with curly long hair and the perfect shape of her breasts and waist. She danced with both a charisma and a groove of her own added to the choreographies that she learned in a heartbeat. She always smiled and was friendly. Yet, she told me how much she hated herself and wanted to learn my secret… We watched the movie Thelma and Louise together, smiling towards one another when she drove me home afterwards. While I wish nothing but the best for her, our friendship ended, because in a way I was also envious of her, even though I knew it was partly a fake persona. I too wanted to be able to dance as well as she did, and not to mention to look like her. But was it then friendship, if we both were just envious of each other?
Fast forward some years, and I found myself in a much better position with girlfriends from various circles, rather than just hanging in one. This way, I had some from my teenage years, some friends from my time in advertising, and some from my university education later on. While there were certainly an element of competition among us sometimes, both in regard to men and to jobs, at least we were more colleagues than foes. I began to enjoy spending time more with those complimenting me with their knowledge and personalities, rather than just being with women who are more like me. I think we need both.
But, it wasn’t until I was living in Hawai’i, I really experienced sisterhood. Being detained for almost a year in a federal detention center among mostly regular Americans, that is, regular Hawaiians, in Honolulu, gave me respite and the position to both be helped and help others on their healing and personal growth journeys. By sharing our vulnerabilities in how we got to this place and why, we could develop a sincere compassion and respect. That doesn’t mean that we always agreed, or that there weren’t conflicts and fights, but no wonder in such closed quarters. We all were able to ask one another for forgiveness and to move on, as our masks peeled away. There is nothing stronger than when a woman stands up for another woman, against men. Here through, our bonds can solidify.
Perhaps, this is why I can’t stand the superficialities of Sweden any longer, where popularity and fame seem to drive everyone to be fearful of the ones who have more, rather than developing their own confidence and heart. Nobody daring to get to know someone for real. Then they miss out on the very core of the matter: The deeper the secrets we share, the deeper we can love. So, share!
Luckily, these dramas were also something Isadora Duncan understood and lived through, so now I can instead dance them. And we can of course look to find a woman that can be a good role model instead. When I grew up, I found that my step grandmother Hanna, was how I’d like to be. That is why I named myself Hannah, after her, who couldn’t conceive. My grandmother, who was my grandfather’s second wife, could turn any dish into a gourmet meal, saw and knit clothes that lasted for generations and made the best of raspberry jam! She also really cared for my grandfather, cared about me, and cared to look her best for us. What are some women qualities that you’d like to develop or already feel that you have and can be proud of? Who has been a female role model for you? Who is a woman you can honor?
























