Take Off the Hats: Keep the Heels
Reconnecting with the woman beneath the roles we play.
Take Off the Hats. Keep the Heels.
As women, we wear many hats.
Mothers. Teachers. Sisters. Wives. Lovers. Businesswomen. Leaders. Caregivers. Partners. Professionals. Friends. The list is endless, and on any given day, some of us change hats so frequently that we barely notice the weight of everything sitting on our heads.
We become exceptionally good at being what everyone needs us to be.
But beneath every hat is still a woman.
And womanhood is not a hat.
It is easy to become so consumed by our responsibilities that we slowly disconnect from the woman underneath them—the woman who wants to laugh loudly, feel beautiful, be desired, experience tenderness, enjoy her body, receive affection, express passion, and occasionally forget that tomorrow has a to-do list.
Sometimes, she needs to take off the hats.
And keep the heels.
Not literally, of course—although some of us may have very specific opinions about the strategic value of a beautiful pair of heels.
The heels are symbolic.
They represent whatever reconnects a woman to the parts of herself that responsibility sometimes forces into the background: sensuality, femininity, confidence, pleasure, playfulness, intimacy, rest, and the freedom to be.
The Woman in the Mirror
Women can be brutal critics of our own bodies.
Too fat. Too skinny. Too soft. Too old. Too much here. Not enough there. We compare ourselves to photographs, younger versions of ourselves, other women, and standards that seem to change every few years.
Yet there is something deeply attractive about a woman who learns to inhabit herself fully.
Our magnetism cannot depend entirely upon someone else's attraction to us. Desire from another person can be beautiful, affirming, and exciting, but it does not create our worth.
Our bodies tell stories.
They may carry evidence of childbirth, aging, stress, survival, celebration, weight gained, weight lost, and years lived. They deserve care rather than constant criticism.
Self-care, therefore, is not simply preparation for somebody else's enjoyment. Wear the fragrance. Moisturize your skin. Buy the lingerie. Put on the lipstick. Wear the dress—or the sneakers. Take care of your body because you live there.
And when you look in the mirror, perhaps the goal should not always be to ask, Do I look desirable enough?
Sometimes the better question is:
Do I recognize her?
Intimacy Is Not Another Chore
Intimacy within healthy relationships deserves to be celebrated and relished.
Life can make that difficult.
There are children to raise, bills to pay, careers to manage, businesses to build, meals to prepare, families to care for, and crises that apparently never consult our calendars before arriving.
Eventually, intimacy can become another item competing for space on an overcrowded list.
But intimacy asks something different of us.
Presence.
If you are married or in a committed relationship, sometimes revive the dating years. Flirt. Laugh. Dress up. Stay in. Go out. Touch without rushing. Talk without checking the clock. Remember what attracted you to each other before responsibilities became permanent houseguests.
And when the opportunity presents itself, enjoy your mate.
Fully.
There is nothing shameful about mutually desired pleasure between consenting adults in a loving, respectful relationship. There is beauty in allowing ourselves to give affection, receive affection, and experience the freedom of being known beyond our public identities.
Lie there sometimes.
Don't immediately jump up and return to life.
Exhale.
Let somebody else carry something for a minute.
Access Is a Privilege
Yet vulnerability should never mean abandoning discernment.
Being someone's wife, girlfriend, lover, or partner does not automatically mean surrendering every boundary. Access to our most delicate selves should be accompanied by trust, respect, reciprocity, emotional safety, and care.
Our bodies are intimate.
But so are our fears.
Our insecurities.
Our dreams.
Our histories.
Our disappointments.
Our hopes.
Our unguarded laughter.
Our tears.
Our silence.
The privilege of intimacy is not merely seeing someone naked.
It is being trusted with the person who remains when the armor comes off.
Choose carefully who receives her.
And when you have chosen someone worthy, allow yourself to experience the beauty of not having to perform strength every moment.
Take Off the Hats
Perhaps one of the greatest gifts women can give ourselves is permission to stop being useful occasionally.
Not forever.
Just long enough to remember that our existence is not measured exclusively by what we produce, solve, organize, sacrifice, teach, earn, or provide.
Take off the teacher hat.
Take off the mother hat.
Take off the executive hat.
Take off the caregiver hat.
Take off the entrepreneur hat.
Take off the hat that says everybody needs something from me.
Put them somewhere safe. You can pick them back up tomorrow.
Then reconnect with the woman underneath them.
Maybe she wants candles and music.
Maybe she wants conversation.
Maybe she wants silence.
Maybe she wants to dance.
Maybe she wants to sleep uninterrupted for eight glorious hours.
Maybe she wants romance.
Maybe she wants to be held.
Maybe she wants to put on those heels.
And perhaps she has absolutely no intention of keeping them on the floor.
Whatever allows her to feel present in her own life again, let her have it without apology.
Because the woman underneath all those responsibilities deserves some of the care she so freely gives everybody else.
We can be intelligent and sensual.
Powerful and vulnerable.
Purpose-driven and playful.
Leaders and lovers.
Mothers and women.
There is no contradiction.
So wear your hats proudly. They represent many of the lives you touch and the responsibilities you have earned.
But every once in a while, take them off.
Remember the woman underneath.
And if the occasion calls for it?
Keep the heels.
