
A few years ago, I had a woman in my life, in her early forties, say to me, “I look to you to learn what it is to be a woman.” Wow, that felt like too much responsibility! But then I remembered being in that same state of looking for female role models when I was a mother and a wife at just twenty years of age.
Consider the skills above survival mode that some females may have absorbed through osmosis in their rearing – like how to apply make-up, when a slip is needed, how to set a proper table, how to make hosting look effortless...All these seemingly trivial proficiencies of refinement alluded me, growing up as the oldest girl in a family of nine children.
During my childhood and adolescence, my mother, quite literally, was either pregnant or nursing a baby – or both! She was constrained to reside on level one of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, pretty much 24/7.
And so, as I shot abruptly into adulthood by marrying my high school sweetheart-turned-Airman 1st Class, I was a sponge for observing and imitating the female finesse necessary to achieve the desired healthy family life I pictured in my head.
An early subject of my self-study was my German landlady, Frau Wilhelm.
I can still hear her voice, calling up the stairs to our second-floor residence in their duplex, for coffee time in the afternoons: “Scherdee, comma to mia, coffee time!”
She modeled what it is (in a small German village) to keep a clean home. Things like getting on your hands and knees to scrub the cement sidewalk and stairs outside your front door. Or, airing your bedding out of the bedroom window at a respectably early hour each morning, to be observed and noted by the other hausfraus on the street. These traits earned me acceptance as the only American household on the street, but did not transfer when I returned to the States!
Next, I looked to a few females I had known pre-marriage who were about a decade older than me, for clues to raising two kids and being the household manager while my smart ambitious husband started a twenty-year career that would have him spending a lot of his non-work time commuting. I could call any one of them to vent, cry or use humor to get through the long days of no adult conversations.
And I don't want to overlook another source of learning the basics: my mother-in-law and her Lebanese side of the family. I have such fond memories of spending time in the kitchen preparing Middle Eastern classics for huge spreads on holidays. I learned some nuances as well as basics of cooking ethnic cuisines.
I'll never forget Aunt Carrie asking me to pick up a few lemons on my way to play prep chef in her kitchen where the walls had permanently absorbed the aromatics of Middle Eastern spices such as cumin and cinnamon. She took one look at the huge lemons I had handpicked and said with distain, "Ugh, look at the thick skin! They will have no good juice. They are useless!" Ha!
I came to know just how much food is love in Ron's Lebanese heritage, and how his female relatives loved me by teaching me how to cook the food that my husband would crave and request throughout our married life.

Also during this season of nurturing and growing a family, I had one of my best female-connecting experiences. The church we were attending was new and full of men and women of my age and stage of life. I started a weekly women’s group, called P & P (prayer and praise was the focus), and could never have anticipated the draw or fruit of this new thing. I quickly realized how pervasive the need was for a safe setting for young mothers and wives to be heard, known, validated, encouraged. I was not alone!
You know the ism: You never know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone.
As much as I drank in those precious years of P & P, when we all moved on into the age of older children and shifting careers, I looked back in awe of that irreplaceable time of deep connection with females. As I endeavored to replicate that safe place, my efforts all seemed to end in disappointment and missed expectations. Something missing in the chemistry just didn’t allow for the same bonding I had experienced in the church group.
But what I did go back to was being drawn to women who were in a season of life ahead of me. I craved that mentor-mentee relationship. I had been experiencing it from the side of being the mentor with some of the women in the P & P group, but still desired to lean on and learn from those who were ahead of me on the crazy journey of being a female in the ever-changing landscape of our very American culture.
On the other hand, I have definitely experienced being the recipient of solid wisdom from a younger generation of female. First and foremost, it has been my daughter who has poured into me a perspective that brings sage advice with a fresh, younger set of glasses. Yes, Heidi was displaying her inborn discernment as young as five. She would chirp into a convo her dad and I were having about a work issue for him, with reminders about what the pastor said last Sunday. Ha! I have learned to lean into her old-soul wisdom over the years.
Our age in numbers is not always the indicator of our age in wisdom. I have such admiration (and mother's pride) for Heidi's capacity to grow through what she goes through.
I’m now officially in the retirement stage of life (whatever that is supposed to mean!). And I find I still crave deep connections with females. I have a handful of those currently in my life, for which I have deep gratitude. Interestingly, most of them don’t live in the same city – or state, for that matter – as me. Never mind proximity; I will bend over backwards to have a phone or video chat with any one of them! And oh the joy when we can meet face-to-face! What a gift to experience what it is to feel safe and known by others. (My eyes well up with tears as I type...)

Approaching this Valentine’s Day, I would like to finish this post with a shout-out to all the admirable women I have encountered and known.
*Thank you for stepping out to receive me.
*Thank you for modeling humility and vulnerability as you invite me to enter into your private worlds.
*Thank you for teaching by example, and encouraging by words and generous offerings.
*Thank you for making space for the messiness of me and my story.
*Thank you for being open to the spontaneous and planned opportunities to share time together.
*Thank you for modeling how to wait – to be comfortable with silent pauses – in conversations, in replies, in moving from listening to talking, in moving from empathy to problem-solving, in landing on the best words for the situation, in waiting for God’s green light before acting.
*Thank you for the difference you have made in my life.
When I reflect on my family and work-focused decades, I wish I had taken more opportunities to mentor those coming up behind me in life seasons. It’s what I craved as a young still-being-formed female. My hope is it is never too late to play a role in the encouragement and development of other women. In fact, that was and is my heart’s desire for this venue of blogging: For you readers to feel accompanied on your journeys. You are not alone. And neither am I.
I invite you to ponder...
What has been a theme (or themes) in your female relationships over your life seasons?
Can you pick out the commonalties across the relationships you would call healthy, reciprocal, fulfilling?
Can you pick out a learning or two you have taken away from unhealthy female relationships?
Have you been in the role of being a mentee – being mentored by another woman? What about the role of being the mentor? What was it like for you?
What is an obstacle to experiencing more mentor-mentee relationships?
Is there a female that comes to mind if you were to consider playing the role of mentor in your current life season?
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Blessed to play a part ~
g