Strong as a (Foster) Mother

I reject the caricatured picture of a strong woman. The common conception—or misconception—of strength: a woman who always speaks her mind and prioritizes herself and pursues her interests above everything else. Making money, kicking butt, taking names, and knocking down anyone who gets in the way.

The vision of strength I value is different. Counter to this cliche. Countercultural. Counterintuitive. The strength I value lies in a life lived for others. Pursuing your dreams, speaking your mind, winning for your own good? Anyone can do that. The strong women I look to, they do hard things—for others—with very little benefit to themselves.

Strong is devoting your life to caring for those you have no responsibility to care for. Strong is loving with great risk to yourself. Strong is saying yes to certain heartbreak. Strong is speaking "I hope your child can be with you soon" while thinking "I want this child to be with me forever." Strong is patiently parenting through the trauma and behaviors of abuse and neglect. Strong is knowing when to speak up and when to bite your tongue. Strong is handing over a child you love to a complete stranger. Strong is doing the hardest thing you've ever done for a dollar an hour. Strong is using your strength for others.

Nothing has made me feel weaker than this foster mom life. But I've found great strength in embracing weakness. I'm as strong as a (foster) mother.