International Women’s Day
The reflection of all the women I’ve come across in my life feels nothing short of witnessing many lifetimes unfold across different timelines.
I often think of my mother first.
A woman who lived through a holocaust—mass graves, firing squads, the systematic disappearance of entire bloodlines. She watched most of her family vanish through murder and mass casualties. And yet she endured.
She entered an arranged marriage that became another battlefield, one marked by abuse and oppression. But when a narrow window of escape appeared during the war, she did not hesitate—even though it meant walking straight into the possibility of death.
She was heavily pregnant with her fourth child: me.
She had already lost children to shrapnel and famine, losses that would have broken most people beyond repair. Yet hope never abandoned her. She walked through jungles, hiding from soldiers who would send refugees back into the violence they had fled. She avoided men who saw war as permission for cruelty. Every step forward was a gamble between freedom and death.
But she kept walking.
That perseverance—her refusal to surrender to fear or despair—is something I have carried with me my entire life.
And her journey did not end once she reached the refugee camp.
She kept going. She kept finding ways to protect the family, to build a future from nothing. All while remaining tied to a man who benefited from her courage but sought to keep her small within the world.
But my mother had already proven something to the world: survival was not enough for her. She was determined to carve a future out of whatever ground she stood on.
My mother fought until the end, when cancer finally took her from this world. Even then, she did not surrender easily.
That kind of strength leaves an imprint on the soul of anyone who witnesses it.
It is women like that who remind me where courage lives.
When voices attempt to silence me, when the world tries to place me neatly inside a box designed for someone else’s comfort, I remember the women who walked through far worse and still refused to disappear.
Life was never meant to be fair.
Struggle and tribulation are part of the human experience. No one escapes it entirely. But transformation always begins with one person—with the choices we make about who we become, what influences us, and what stories we allow to shape our lives.
That is why days like this matter.
International Women’s Day is not simply about saying thank you to the women who came before us. It is about examining ourselves honestly and asking whether we are carrying their legacy forward—or quietly letting it fade.
Because their legacy now lives in us.
In the women of today. The now. The women who will pass something down to the next generation.
And what we pass down matters.
Not simply achievement and accolades in the eyes of the world, but something deeper: morality, compassion, humanity, and the courage to do what is right—not merely to survive, but to live fully.
So today I celebrate not only the women who are no longer here, but the ones who walk beside me in this lifetime.
The friends, acquaintances, and yes, strangers. All of us navigating this strange and sacred journey called life.
I celebrate the women who offer encouragement from behind screens and quiet messages of support. But even more so, I celebrate the ones who dig deeper within themselves so they can help lift someone else’s spirit back into the light.
The ones who see you without you having to say a word. The ones who step into the unseen battles with you, facing your demons head-on so you don’t have to face them alone. The prayer warriors. The intercessors.
The ones who put their egos aside—even when they cannot fully understand your story or perspective—simply because they believe you deserve to be seen as who you truly are.
I celebrate the strangers who unknowingly heal wounds with a few simple words, sealing cracks in the spirit and giving someone just enough strength to keep going. The drive by spirit fillers, pouring from their own cups as they pass along.
I celebrate the women who choose to break generational curses. The ones who understand that while the past may shape who we are, it does not get to dictate who we become.
These women walk battlefields most people will never see. They clear paths that others will one day walk with far less resistance.
I celebrate the women who sacrifice their own comfort so others can chase their dreams. The ones who take the brunt of storms so the people they love can find their way through.
I celebrate the women who uplift other women—but who also maintain enough softness to uplift the men around them as well. Because despite everything that divides us, we are still one human race walking this earth together.
Today I celebrate those women.
The ones who keep humanity alive through quiet acts of courage that they themselves may never recognize as significant. Small moments that ripple outward in ways they may never see—not even in their final breath.
There is a phrase in scripture that describes women as “helpers.” But the original Hebrew phrase is ezer kenegdo.
It is a difficult phrase to translate directly. The word ezer appears in military contexts. It refers to powerful aid—strength that comes alongside another in battle. Ezer kenegdo is not a passive helper.
It is a warrior.
And perhaps that is what women were always meant to be from the very beginning.
Warriors rooted in love.
Warriors grounded in strength.
So today, to every woman fighting battles seen and unseen:
Thank you for being you.
And thank you for continuing to fight the good fight.
-YD
Comments ()