Hardly Typical She

Ponytails, soft curls. Painted nails. Blushed cheeks and red lips. Cooks, cleans and keeps things neat. And oh, child-rearing and child-bearing. Generally, this describes a typical woman.

Our kind? Rarely seen in curls, often in loose ponies or a neat bun, hardly paints our nails. We don’t usually wear sophisticated high heels and sassy shoulder bags. We are seldom seen with colored faces. Prefers balms than matte lippies. Needless to say, we aren’t typical. Hardly.

More than being a modern woman who works hard and earns well, we are strong - physically, mentally and emotionally. As a member of a profession comprised mostly of men, we do the works, too. Our bodily strength may be way behind theirs, but our mind is strong, our emotions resilient and our spirit is ever sturdy that our labor equates the things that men do. Innately, we have a soft heart but it never falls short of strength and courage whenever our profession requires us. We wear combat boots, not stilettos. Our dress is stiff and made for battles, not the fashionable and grand ones for parties. More than walking gracefully, we march properly. More than clutching make-up kits, we hold guns. We are female soldiers. We aren’t typical. Hardly.

They say, runway is for models. Well, we aren’t models, but runway is definitely for us. Not for catwalk but for take-off. We don’t just march and run. We fly. We don’t just shoot the enemies through guns, we fire them rockets and bombs. We are both soft-hearted and cold-blooded creature in one. And we are women. But not the typical. Hardly.

We aren’t typical. But in some ways, we are still the same woman as everyone. Fatigue and stress weary us. Fear and doubt cross our mind. At times, we feel lonely- missing our friends, loved ones, children, our family, specially when we have to go hundred of miles away to perform our mandated tasks being one of the “rare” female species. And because despite our strength, we are still a sister, a daughter, a wife and a mother, the burden is doubled. At the end of the day, our heart is still soft, and we have to pause. Just pause. Pray. And realize that our heart is so big that it may have a bit of fright but it has bigger space for bravery; it may have sparks of loneliness but it has wider area for gladness and contentment; it may have a tiny portion of anxiety but the chunk of sturdiness and determination is far greater. So, we pick up ourselves again because we have to endure. We have to do our responsibilities to our family and to our country. Because you see, we are not typical. Hardly.

So we soar. Fearlessly, we roar. With fierce spirit, we shot down the enemies. And during these moments, as sexy as it seems, we come in hot. 

With propelling rockets and brutal bombs.
No, not with make-up kits and high heels nor fancy dresses.

Because we, female Warriors, are not typical.
Hardly.