For mad I may be, but I will never be convenient. –Jennifer Donnelly, Revolution

To be honest, I can’t even remember where it was that I originally heard about it but apparently ancient Roman gladiators weren’t just the male, Russell Crowe kind that we’ve seen on television. There were actually female gladiators, known as “gladiatrix”, who fought in gladiator style battles to the death in places like the Colosseum. This notion was absolutely fascinating to me so naturally I did some research. 

There were not a lot of them according to the things I’ve read but they existed. They fought other women and sometimes even midgets (sometimes even two at once!) in the ring and reenacted the ancient naumachiaes, or sea battles, in a flooded arena just like the male gladiators did. But the really big difference between them that I feel is really important to note is that unlike their male counterparts who fought because they had to because they were slaves of people who desired a show, gladiatrices fought primarily because they were crazy rich and bored. They fought because they wanted to, because they wanted to feel tough in a world that had cast women low on the totem pole, and maybe because they wanted to prove to themselves (and others) that they could hold their own. What I found to be even crazier is that these women fought each other topless, without any sort of protection on their chest, despite what video games seem to portray, and without any sort of headgear because they wanted their gender to be obvious to the crowd.

So basically these women were bad asses.
 
In most historical stories in general, men are always put on this ridiculously high pedestal. We’ve made gods of men and subservient, irrational mothers out of women and while I will gladly wear that name most days, the reality is that it’s just not accurate. I mean, look at us now: we’ve got a lady running for president and whether or not she’s successful at it isn’t the issue. It’s the fact that she will be standing up in those flashy pantsuits and reminding us that ladies can do anything men can do. The only difference is that we look way better doing it. (Maybe not Hillary specifically because she’s a little too Glenn Close in an 80’s thriller for my taste but you get what I’m saying.) 

And honestly, I’m seeing this “women power” mentality every day. It spans as far as “strong is the new sexy” to the various traumas that women are relentlessly overcoming. Infertility, breast and other various cancers, equality in the work place and domestic violence. I mean, look at me, a domestic violence advocate: someone who celebrates women who have combatted domestic violence and found the strength to start a new life. 

The fact that women grow a tiny life inside of them and give up their bodies to these perfect little tenants is absolutely astounding. The fact that women have waited for years for the right to vote in an election and fight in a war (in some form other than nursing wounded soldiers) is amazing to me and something that, quite frankly, I would be way too terrified to do. The fact that women perfect and tone every muscle in their bodies in order to compete in physique competitions and box like Ronda Rousey is perhaps one of the coolest things I personally have ever seen. Women are police officers, firefighters, military sergeants and some of them even double as mommies. Women are teachers, molding the minds of America, social workers, keeping kids safe one case at a time, and bra specialists, keeping ladies well supported throughout the year. Women are stay-home-moms, caring for multiple children, sometimes while dealing with the complications of pregnancy, and still maintaining their households and making sure their husbands are happy. Women are cooking, cleaning, ironing, and singing hand washing songs their way through their day, working twenty-four hours between work and being a mommy, and still find the time to spritz themselves with some perfume. 

Being a lady is hard work. We’ve got such standards to live up to. We’ve got tiny people to raise. Rereading over the last paragraph and realizing all the remarkable things that women do every day, no matter what their job title, it is absolutely no surprise to me that there were documented female gladiators. Of course there were! They’re probably just a little less accounted for because just like in every other aspect of life, women are just expected to do all the same things men do without the added praise. We’re supposed to just bounce back after children, we’re supposed to just take care of our children and still figure out a way to provide, we’re supposed to cook and clean our entire house whether or not we have full-time jobs, and we absolutely have the burden of proof when it comes to being an intellectual, an academic and a person climbing up the professional ladder. Men are just handed these things and we’re the ones stuck with the affliction to prove it to the world. 

We have somehow found the perfect balance between kissing booboos and kicking ass. We’re women: it’s what we do. 

We women talk too much, but even then we don’t tell half of what we know. –Nancy Astor, the Viscountess Astor

I just find that a lot of times, women are sort of disregarded. They aren’t considered wholeheartedly for things like employment and higher up positions, and oftentimes they’re attacked for being successful. They’re man eaters or labeled “frigid” if they’re successful on their own but I see the disrespectful comments regarding stay-at-home moms too. Why can’t they contribute? Why aren’t they cooking every night? Why isn’t the house immaculate all of the time? It’s nonsense. It just seems like, and not to sound like a feminist, but no matter what we do, it’s not enough. And then when we do branch out and pursue careers, it’s almost certain to be a male dominated workforce. It just seems like we’re incessantly held to a different standard. 

It has to be said that it’s pretty obvious there is a blatant disregard for women in most social circles. I mean, if there weren’t, I probably wouldn’t have a job, right? I mean, if every single person really respected women, there would obviously be no rape or domestic violence, right? But let’s be real for half a second: a lot of individuals are still stuck in the 1940’s. And it is what it is but it has left women with the encumbrance of working that much harder at absolutely everything. Because basically, we have to. 

I have seen this blatant disrespect everywhere but I’ve noticed a huge increase when it comes to things like driving in traffic and road rage. I can’t even tell you how many times I have been cussed at, tailgated dangerously, and flicked off by male drivers for whatever reason. Obviously this absolutely rude and unacceptable behavior extends farther than the male population but in my experience, men are the primary culprits in this particular problem.

I’ll give you an example: today I was driving home from work, probably speeding a little more than I should have because I was in a hurry to get home. But traffic was basically nonexistent because I had just beaten the peak hour and essentially all the lanes were free. I was in the fast lane, going about fifteen over when this man driving a GMC truck gradually starts to get on my rear-end. Well he’s inching nearer and nearer and by this point, I can’t get into the next lane (to be courteous and get out of his way) because there’s a car driving next to me. And to be fair, I was already going fifteen over (which is probably bordering on unsafe driving) so I wasn’t about to speed any further to get ahead of the person next to me. Well the GMC douchebag slams on his breaks, gets behind the person next to me, and screams as he is getting into the next two lanes of traffic that I’m driving like a fucking idiot

Yes, I’m driving like an idiot. Says the man who apparently thinks fifteen miles over the speed limit is too slow.

So a couple lights later, I caught up to him unintentionally and he screams at me again because clearly I’m a fucking idiot, right? If I had seen this person somewhere besides US HWY 19, I probably would have said, “Please honey, I’ve been called way worse than that. And don’t worry, the strip club will still be open by the time you get there.” But since I don’t zing and drive, I stared straight ahead and pretended like I was hard of hearing because quite frankly, I don’t engage in conversation with people who speak to me that way.

My point is, for the most part (and there are obviously exceptions), this is not something a lady would do. This man child saw a young girl riding in an older, obviously high-mileage coupe and thought, I can tough talk her because she’s going just a tad too slow for my taste. But because I’m a courteous driver, because I’m a lady and I don’t engage in such garbage behavior, and because I have better things to do than scream out my window like Florida white trash, I’m not going to speed up for you and I’m not going to scream back. You, sir, can go ahead and switch lanes because I’m not afraid of you. And just because your grill is taller than my car and you scream like a lunatic who missed a dose of psychotropic medication doesn’t mean that you have big brass balls. It means you’re disgusting and you should be ashamed of yourself for screaming like that at a woman. At anyone, really. 

But as earlier stated, women are held to a much higher standard than men. So I guess I shouldn’t be shocked by such things.

A strong woman builds her own world. She is the one who is wise enough to know that it will attract the man she will gladly share it with. –Ellen J. Barrier 

I know of so many remarkable females who wear the neo-Gladiatrix badge loud and proud. These women, to me, are the epitome of real. They are hell-bent on following through with things that they sincerely care about, they’ve followed their own road and have owned their mistakes, and they’ve learned so many things along their lifelong journey. They share light, intelligence and warm guidance with the world. They aren’t tearing others down and they aren’t ruining the precious life they were given. They are thankful, honest, and down-to-earth.

I know this one woman from high school who meets all of the aforementioned criteria. She was one of those girls I was always really jealous of in high school because she was always naturally thin. She was relatively busty but she never bragged about it and on the contrary, sort of made a habit of hiding her neckline because she never felt the need to put herself out there. She was always super smart and motivated but to me, it seemed like she never had to try particularly hard. She was always just naturally beautiful, naturally smarter than most of the kids at our school, and someone who was naturally popular without really trying.
She was one of those down-to-earth, pretty girls that everyone liked.

Well as we got older, she obviously continued her education and did the school teacher thing. From what I could tell via social media, she was fairly good at it, pretty respected in her field, and only climbing the employment ladder. She got married to this man that she had been with for a million years and they had an absolutely adorable curly haired little boy. 

She did most things right, stayed out of trouble, and made a conscious effort to be a respectable, dependable person.

And honestly, when we were kids, I was always a little intimated by her. She originated from New York and she was never afraid to put people in their place. She was a member of a strong church community, so she was always genuinely kind and thoughtful. But she still possessed a really likeable sassy side. We lived in the same neighborhood for years and she was always one of those really nice girls that I knew could defend herself if she had to. So naturally, I always tried to keep her on my good side. 

But for all the sass and spirit she possessed back then, it’s almost like she morphed into the child of Ronda Rousey and the pink Power Ranger by the time she turned thirty. For lack of a better expression, she just became this bad ass, awesome woman. And I just really valued that.

Her son was diagnosed with a neurological disorder and she became this amazing, really proactive advocate for him and other kids like him. She made it a point to get really educated about his disorder so that she could properly advocate for him and ensure he was getting everything he needed. An article she wrote about her son was even featured in this high profile social media blog site. (Read it here: themighty.com/2016/10/helping-my-son-with-autism-pick-out-his-halloween-costume/

She became really diligent about eating healthy and working out and soon got into crazy athletic shape (and like I said, she was already naturally thin). She literally worked out nearly every day of the week and would post these pictures on Facebook and Instagram recording the progress she was making and I really respected her for it because it was gradual, natural, and something she had done completely on her own. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone with her chiseled abs or seek attention for the way she had transformed. She was just doing her.

I would lay in bed with my glass of whiskey and think to myself, “She is so awesome and she is such a born motivator.” She even competed in the Savage Race with her husband and brother, which I personally thought was awesome because the last time I attended the Savage Race, I sat with the audience and watched. Because I’m one of those people who is always intrinsically motivated but when it comes right down to it, I would rather lay in bed and read a gossip magazine. Then when bathing suit season comes around, I cry and run on the treadmill until I feel like fainting and wonder why I have no muscle tone. I always complained about my body but I never really made an effort to make a change aside from going to the gym fairly regularly and eating as healthy as I could.

But this woman isn’t like that. Obviously she has hard days; we all do. I won’t sit here and act like her whole life is perfect and she never cries in the shower. We’ve all got stress and we all have days where we don’t want to crawl out from under the covers. The difference with her is that she owns it. She’s real and honest and doesn’t sugar coat things to spare feelings. She says what she genuinely thinks and stands for things that she believes are right and for that, I really, really respect her.

(She’s also got a bunch of arty tattoos and piercings that I think are awesome primarily because I personally think tattooed moms are the cutest! But I guess her glamourous body ink and hardware are not really what this blog is about...) 

Moral of the Crazy: The thing is, I could go on and on about all the amazing women I know. I could tell you about my friend Kate, who left her job as a banker to start a 501c3 nonprofit organization that helps victims of domestic violence through yoga practice. I could tell you about one of my previous managers from Victoria’s Secret, who I always, always looked up to because she was brilliant and really, really educated (she majored in Pre-Dental Medicine at Purdue University) but chose to stay in retail because she was passionate about it. I could tell you about a girlfriend of mine named Allie, who is perhaps the kindest, most warm-hearted individual I personally have ever met. I could tell you how she started a long distance relationship with a man that is now her husband and the father of her beautiful son. I could tell you how everyone who knows her could depend on her for pretty much anything because she’s just that giving and genuinely willing to help others. I could tell you how she’s suffered her own personal tragedy but continues to shine and smile at every person she comes across. I could tell you about my mother who has overcome a lot of things in her seventy-one years and is actually begging me to take her zip-lining when she comes to visit in December. I could tell you about how she was a victim of domestic violence and didn’t tell me about it until I was almost out of the house. I could tell you about how she worked 12 hours a day when I was in high school to save the house we were about to lose and still managed to be a Band Booster and attend every performance, football game, and early morning audition I ever participated in.

I could go even further about women that I don’t know personally. Elizabeth Jayne Liu, my inspiration and the reason I had the courage to start this blog. Joss Stone, the cutest hippie I’ve ever seen and my favorite singer. Kristen Bell, who I think is absolutely adorable and a really hands-on mother to her kids.

The truth is that in some way, I’ve been touched by all of them. In some way, they have all worn that Gladiatrix hat and I feel they should be celebrated for it. I think it’s unfair sometimes when I hear people say that females are the weaker sex. (And to be honest, I’ve even heard women say this, multiple times.) I don’t think it’s even slightly justifiable to say that women are the fairer sex, that women are the feebler sex, that women should be taken care of above all things.

Do you now want to know why? Because women don’t need to be taken care of. Women take care. We manage paying bills, going to work, breastfeeding children in public places, and delivering babies without pain medications like gorgeous warriors. We put ourselves together for fancy dinners, weddings, and sensual adult time when all men have to do is show up. We work out like crazy to bounce back after babies and we run our households better than most politicians run their office. We’re responsible for cleaning, clothing and feeding our families and we don’t ask for any sort of recognition because we don’t need it. Because we’re women and we’re graceful, incessantly appropriate, and always on a journey of self-improvement. 

And to assume that men are stronger, that men are more level-headed, that men can be better counted on in a disaster is just nonsense. I once heard this joke about Italian married couples: one of my friends told me that if his wife ever passed away, he would be found starving in his living room, standing in unlaundered boxers, unsure of where the remote was. And as a part Italian woman, I have to tell you, stereotypes exist for a reason.

I’ll openly admit that I am very spoiled in my marriage. My husband and I are most certainly a team; I’m married to someone who didn’t originate from this country so he was raised different than most men here. I cook every single night (unless he grills), but if I didn’t know how or never wanted to, he would cook every night. He goes grocery shopping with me, runs most errands with me, comes to all my doctor appointments with me, and takes the trash out (because I personally think that’s a man’s job). He also does all of the outside housework, and usually when I’m not home, because he knows that I don’t want to help. 

But at the same time, and I’ve said this a million times, I do almost everything in my household. And I like it that way. But the difference is, while I’m the warrior of my household and I tend to most things, my husband worships me. When I’m tired and don’t feel like doing the dishes in the sink, my husband doesn’t sulk or make comments. He doesn’t ask why the house is a mess like my dad used to do to my mom. He doesn’t tell me it’s unacceptable and I need to get it together. 

He just walks over to the sink and does the dishes. 

But (and not to brag), we aren’t all as lucky as I am in the husband department. I am extremely, extremely blessed. (And I like to think that he is too.)

It will just never cease to amaze me; the amount of strength all women have is almost baffling. I see it all the time, all around me. I find this to be most especially true in my working environment; so many of these women (obviously mothers) have overcome so much and still manage working, taking care of their children, and having an intensive, in-home program in their lives 3-5 days a week, sometimes even more. I see it with my girlfriends too; they’ve dealt with awful relationships and unemployment, they’ve lost their fathers and mothers, or people really close to them, they’ve supported their families when there was no one else to lean on, they’ve forgiven people who probably didn’t deserve it, and they’ve been just absolutely incredible friends when I was in need.

I guess the point of all this is to show you that this idea of feminism, this notion of female empowerment isn’t just a new trend brought about by people like Ronda Rousey, Emma Watson and Marie Curie. This is something that has always existed and was just never talked about. Woman have always been warriors, they have always been bad ass, they have always been strong and accountable. They have always fought for themselves and stood strong for the things they believed in and I think that little factoid should be celebrated.
Stay strong, ladies. You’re all you’ve got. 

And you’re all you’ll ever need.

One by one, she slew her fears, and then planted a flower garden over their graves. –John Mark Green

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