My worry is my balance because my peace is my storm.
I worry all the time. So much so, it’s difficult to pinpoint any one thing I worry more about? It’s all on my mind, thrashing around in there like a cat in a bath.
My narrator, who sounds less like Morgan Freeman and more like Karen from Will and Grace, high pitched and drunk all the time, is always on. Laughing, crying, screaming, and singing all to herself. When things are good, she’s off in la la land sipping martinis, but when things are bad she’s throwing that martini in rational behaviour’s face before turning her back so he won’t see her cry.
I feel as if women worry because historically that was our job, to worry about family, safety, food and shelter. Our male counterparts were the builders and protectors. We were responsible for the children, keepers of our genetic code, and so we developed a predisposition to worry, in addition to hearing high pitched noises.
Thanks to physical and hormonal differences, genders naturally gravitated towards roles aligned with their physical stature and abilities, to safeguard the continuation of human kind.
Men were the sword and women their shield, emotionally protecting and comforting the tribe during battle, until the battle has been won.
Simple. Easy. Purposeful.
Gender roles are becoming homogeneous, but that doesn’t mean they are completely without merit. I’ve wondered, in terms of sexuality, whether one day we’ll be simply sexual or asexual beings (without any pretense). The same perhaps for gender, eventually becoming completely neutral.
For now, women are more predisposed to worry, and because of that worry mental disorders, but this quality, if perceived in the right way, could actually make us amazing warriors in the workplace, and in life.
It Gives Us Courage to Care Out Loud
Worry makes us cautious, observant critics, true, but it is the seed of change. Movements wouldn’t happen if we first weren’t worried about the way things are and cared about how they could be. Worry is our leaping off point. It helps us find the courage to reach out and speak up about our truth, with conviction, to the right people.
It Connects Us with Our Community
Worry is a catalyst, but empathy is the glue that binds. We worry about our neighbours and colleagues because we know how it would feel to be in their shoes.
I wouldn’t want to be alone in a crisis, so why should you.
Reaching out, we try to make it better by being supportive, listening, and making delicious casseroles. We become a shoulder to cry on and a brace for a straighter spine. Worrying about a bad situation won’t help, but sharing someone else’s worry will.
Together, solutions can be found. Life is full of challenges that make us stronger. We are always much stronger together.
It really does take a village.
It’s a Built-In Moral Compass
I also believe worrying helps us sustain a certain degree of respectability in our volatile world. Egos run rampant on the streets, but our worry keeps us in check. If I weren’t worried about burning bridges and alienating myself from peers, I wouldn’t care if I acted like a drama queen at that office party last week.
Whether we like it or not, we find success in numbers and worrying about each other and how to work together keeps us moving forward.
Our worry keeps us safe, because no one can fix a ship in a storm.