The Girls Got Guts: The Woman Of It All

6^th November. That morning everything was silent. I don’t remember hearing the birds sing outside my bedroom window. You see, my family home is situated in a very peaceful area, and on a sunny morning like this one, I usually hear the delicate chirps as I open my eyes. 

But not on the 6^th of November 2024. I came home for one of the biggest weeks in my career for The Girls Got Guts but that morning my guts were gone, and fear was in its place. 

The presidential race is over, and a convicted felon was deemed more worthy of the position than a woman. I was thinking of my nieces in California, no older than 10 years old. What did this mean womanhood would become for them and all the people in America? 

I have never felt so useless in my life. So powerless. Just watching from across the Atlantic, being a woman became that much harder once again. In many corners of the world right now, the rights of women are being reduced. 

This may be very naïve of me, but my whole life I have thought that ‘humankind’ would only seek progression, protecting basic human rights that we have fought so hard for. But here we are, witnessing a regression like we are living in a dystopian novel.

Seeing heartbroken women on social media offering support to the American population who voted blue, I shared in their pain and anger. 

I thought of every great Greta Gerwig monologue on the struggles of womanhood: Gloria’s from Barbie, Jo and Amy March in Little Women. I remembered how millions of women felt seen by these words — like they were being extracted from our souls. A collective soul.

Suddenly I felt a surge of warmth. The sisterhood of women refusing to stand aside and allow injustice. In everyday life, it’s unspoken, but to hear women in arms, vocalising it, was empowering. 

Being a woman in the 21^st century can feel like an impossible task. 

From girlhood to womanhood, this challenge exists and intensifies with time. The feeling of being underestimated, the fear for our lives. Being a woman is a fight. 

Looking back at my girlhood, I learnt what it meant to be a woman early on. 

At 6 years old, I started karate lessons and was the only girl in my class. As a ballerina, I would execute kicks delicately with pointed toes and was promptly told to ‘man up’. 

The young boys found this amusing and began a 4 year-long game of:

‘Whoever hits Amba the hardest and makes her cry, wins!’

But I never let my guard down (literally). I would come home with multiple bruises and a determination that even my mum couldn’t talk me out of.

I told her that I wouldn’t give up. From an early age, I felt a duty to other girls, this unspoken sisterhood that I feel so fiercely in womanhood; a duty to help us feel seen and deserving of space. 

So, I went back week after week. Bruises upon bruises showed up on my arms and legs but I never backed down. After the classes, my dad would pick me up and tell me I was the strongest person in that room. I began to feel that deeply.

4 years later, the first black belt was awarded in the school. I walked up to the front of the class, shook my teacher’s hand and claimed the belt, my name embroidered in gold on the black material. However, to me, this belt wasn’t just mine. It was for every girl who was ever told she couldn’t do something or whose fight was underestimated. 

It became a symbol of womanly power. 

Being a woman is to be resilient yet patient, strong yet gentle, powerful yet respectful. Being a woman is to feel wholly. To be ambitious for our futures. Though it feels incredibly hard, the sisterhood felt between like-minded women of all ages is something that can never be taken away. I think that is something extraordinary. 

And oh, how I love being a woman!

As I watched Kamala Harris take to the stage to address the public one last time in her concession speech, I felt my eyes tearing up. I watched her utilise her womanly strength. Urging people to not stop fighting for the causes they believe in.

‘You have power’.

I must have had a physical reaction to this line, as my mum placed her hand on mine. She didn’t need to say a word. Her eyes said enough. Never give up on what you believe in. Never give up on yourself. She squeezed my hand and I squeezed hers back. I’m proud to be a woman. 

Together, we have so much power.