The Art of Resonance

There is something I hope we, as women, will one day leave behind...

The habit of commenting on each other’s appearance.

“You’ve put on weight.”
“You’ve lost weight.”
“You look tired.”
“What happened to your skin?”
“You’ve aged.”
“You looked better before.”

Can we please stop?

Before the words leave our mouths, can we pause and ask ourselves one simple question:

Did she ask for my opinion?

If the answer is no, perhaps it doesn’t need to be said.

Because what feels like a passing remark to one person can become a lifelong echo for another.

We have no idea what someone is carrying.

The woman who has gained weight may be healing.
The woman who has lost weight may be grieving.
The woman with acne may already avoid her reflection.
The woman who looks exhausted may be carrying responsibilities no one else sees.

And sometimes…

There is no explanation at all.

Sometimes a woman simply looks the way she looks.

She shouldn’t have to justify her body.
She shouldn’t have to explain her face.
She shouldn’t have to defend the passage of time.

Some of us spend years learning to accept the very things others casually point out in seconds.

Why have we become so comfortable treating another woman’s appearance as though it belongs to all of us?

Why do we notice the extra kilos before the courage it took for her to get out of bed?
The wrinkles before the wisdom.
The scars before the strength.
The grey hairs before the life she has lived.

Our bodies are not public property.

Our faces are not invitations for critique.

Our worth has never been found in a number on a scale, the smoothness of our skin, or how closely we resemble someone else’s idea of beauty.

Imagine the kind of world we could create if we became known for noticing what truly matters.

Kindness before complexion.

Character before clothing.

Resilience before appearance.

Imagine if, instead of asking, “What happened to your face?” we asked, “How is your heart?”

Imagine if every woman walked away from our conversations feeling a little lighter than when she arrived.

The words we choose matter.

Some disappear as quickly as they are spoken.

Others become the voice a woman hears every time she stands in front of a mirror.

Let’s not become that voice.

Let’s become the woman who reminds another of her worth when the world has made her question it.

May our words be gentle.
May our presence be safe.
And may every woman who leaves our company feel more seen than scrutinised, more valued than evaluated, and more loved than judged.