The clock struck 4. I started stressing about the hours I would take in reaching home. It was the first time I had left my then 1 year old and “traveled” anywhere more than 8 kms away, let alone 40 kms away.
Great opportunity, go for it, my boss had said while nominating me for that women’s leadership program. Yes yes super exciting, I had acquiesced while trying to suppress a niggle at the back of my mind, about how far from home the training center was.
And here I was at the training, a month later, the niggle a big sore thumb in the middle of my already over-leveraged brain, saying, “Please get out latest by 5 pm else you won’t even reach home to put the child to sleep”. Silly goals, I know. But mothers of 1 year-olds and mothers who remember how they were when their kids were 1 year-olds would understand, if not empathise.
The training session had a mix of women, older and younger, senior and junior, most of them mothers themselves. A couple of them empathised with my unduly stressed state of mind. A few more joined in.
And then one came up with a bright idea. “K, so many of us have traveled from across India for the program and accommodation is available here. Why don’t you stay one of these nights, if you have a caregiver for the child at home? This might be your best test case. You can always rush back home if something goes wrong.”
And that’s what I did, after a bit of coaxing and cajoling by that bunch of women around me. I stayed a night. The roof didn’t collapse. My baby didn’t feel abandoned. And I got a full night’s sleep.
I wouldn’t call it life changing, but it was a defining moment for sure. About visible and invisible boundaries, shackles real and imaginary.
It’s popular narrative, that women pull women down, that women are women’s worst enemies. I wouldn’t hazard to generalise.
Granted. I very often hear the “I worked so hard and overcame so many challenges, so why are you cribbing, when you have it infinitely easier than women of the previous generation did?” trope from many women.
On the other hand, more often than not have I been lucky to find myself in the middle of strong communities of women. Ones that have said “it’s ok, you are doing great” and “it’s alright, don’t feel guilty.” Ones that have consistently pushed me up because sometimes one needs that last push up after all. Ones that have been there when I fell down saying, “take your time to dust off, we are here for you anyway and you know that, don’t you”.
How do motley groups of women get together to pull each other up? More importantly, why do they?
Perhaps, it is something about the power of communities. Of camaraderie. Of commitment to build a better world, one group at a time.
Have you experienced the power of a community of women? Have you been instrumental in building one? Would you like to share your story? I am keen to hear.
P. S. Views strictly personal. Post doesn’t refer to any organisation that I am currently associated with.