Yesterday Oiselle, a brand that I adore, relaunched with a blog post and video. Both were aspirational, inspirational and reminded me why I love this brand so much. Not only do they make kick-ass running gear, their mission and values align with my own. A brand by women, for women, seems as important today as it’s ever been.

After watching the two-minute video a few times, a few phrases jumped out at me…”take up space”, “being told to stay quiet and small”. We hear in a lot of different places how women in our culture are conditioned to be quiet, to minimize ourselves to take up as little space as possible. This quietness and shrinking of our presence is often for the comfort of others. Our society frowns upon women who speak loudly, who demand to be seen and heard. It shames us for bodies that are “too big”, even if we ourselves feel those same bodies are just right. We are told to temper our anger, to moderate the emotion in our voices, to shrink our physical selves. The silencing of women happens at every level of society. It happens at work, where women are talked over in meetings and whose ideas are ignored until put forth by a male colleague. It happens on the internet, where women are harassed daily, simply for having an opinion and the audacity to share it. It happens in publications, where men’s stories are told far more often. A recent issue of one of my favorite running magazines featured only stories about men and by men. (White men, to make it even less inclusive. Yes, I wrote to them about it.) Another only does gear reviews written by and for men. In 2018. The silencing of women is systemic, woven so tightly into the fabric of our being that many will argue that it no longer happens. Even though there’s ample evidence to prove that it does.

As an female-identifying introvert, reconciling where I personally fit into the conversation has been difficult. I spent most of my 30s working to understand my introvertedness, and learning to harness its power. I’ve argued with a number of people, most often men, that my quietness is an inherent quality, one not shamed into me by society. There is ample evidence that I was a highly-sensitive child, going back to when I was an infant. I’ve always been quiet and somewhat shy, and no longer feel the need to apologize for it. Rather than view my sensitivity and introvertedness as qualities to overcome, I embrace them. I know they make me an exceptionally good listener and incredibly perceptive. I often pick up on things other people don’t. I’m sensitive to the energy of people and places. I don’t speak to make noise, I speak when I have something to say. At work, our society values male, extroverted leadership. Understanding my own power allowed me to be successful “despite” my female quietness.

When I read/hear pieces that encourage women to take up space, or that frame quiet and small as something to push against, my immediate reaction is defensiveness. I’ve had the opposite problem, working hard to honor my quietness, to ground in my sensitivity. (Sensory Processing Sensitivity has nothing to do with feelings. If you are unfamiliar with the term, go here to learn more. Also, I wrote a blog post about my experience with it last year. ) Living in a highly extroverted world, I’ve worked hard to harness the value of my inherent quietness, and to appreciate that I don’t take up as much space as most people. I quite honestly do not want to be louder, to have a bigger presence. I used to feel like there wasn’t a place for me in these sorts of conversations.

But as I’ve spent the last few days ruminating on the Oiselle video, I realized I’ve been thinking about this all wrong. When the collective we creates space for my sisters – literal and figurative – to be their bold, bright selves, we all are lifted up. My quietness will be fully honored when their loud, bright lights are fully honored. It’s as though we all are being made to wear the same jacket, and it doesn’t fit any of us. Because as I’m being told to talk more, they are being told to talk less. As I’m told I’m too quiet, they are told they are too loud. How all of us use our voices is being controlled. As the great civil rights leader Fannie Lou Hamer put it “nobody’s free until everybody’s free”. So these ~800 words are me taking up space. Adding my voice to theirs as they demand to be heard, shouting in the best way I know how. (Because I’m certainly not going to be actually shouting. #nope)

In a gentle way, you can shake the world. ~ Mahatma Gandhi