I Know a Perfect Woman.

She wore usual clothes and so subtle makeup, had her hair often messy, and stretched her back like she owned the day. Honestly, her appearance won’t always garner a second look. She isn't really noticeable. But right then and there, I’ve known a perfect woman.

On the busiest days of my senior year in college, I met her. She was on her second day of menstrual period–her eyes were noticeably swollen from crying for whatever pain she’s going through. After sharing her too-much-information remark, she checked on me to see if I could still carry on with my task. There is no need to prove that she’s worthy of being perfect. She already is just by being a woman.

Before I found her, I’ve had a fair share of experiences. If we were close friends, you would probably know how I cherish female friendships and companionship. It stemmed from childhood. I am proud to be a part of a powerful trio of women in the family. My mother and my big sister showed me the incomparable safety and care that women generously provide despite all life’s stressors. An indicator that a member of the trio is stressed: one of us suggests eating fruits together at the dining table or going to the Ukay-ukay. We always shop together as we talk openly about our worries– this is our version of caring for one another. As I aged, I validated my observation on why buyers look for ‘lady-owned’ descriptions when it comes to preloved items. Such pieces are highly likely been cared for. What a trait to have as a woman!

I am still learning a lot from female role models during the transition from girlhood to womanhood in my college years. I love living in an all-female apartment. We have taken good care of our small community for four years now. We eat ice cream and walk together along Grove street during hell weeks. We’d print reviewers just to sleep on them and later wake up to our roommate’s 5 o’clock alarm. We’d have bad days when we let the deadlines pass and comfort ourselves that it’s not the end of the world. If our apartment walls could talk, it will take days of nonstop storytelling about skin care routines, boy crushes, and a few crying sessions.

Womanhood is a tribe of rich experiences and feelings unique to us. Some alumnae from my sorority are my mentors, even without them being aware of it. I have girl friends who like risking their health for a dangerous hike of a lifetime or an overtime beer session. A few of them lied on the grounds of Freedom Park, talking about timely political issues while relentlessly hating on men. My female friends and I are fond of ElBids because we can either sell or buy cute outfits. Girlmath is when we earn or save a small amount of money and find ourselves indulging in front of whole Samgyeopsal set that costs almost a week’s worth allowance. 

After thinking about what every girl must have gone through in our shared community, I found a version of myself on one of these busiest days. While I cry for reasons I don’t remember except for the fact that I am more emotional during my red days, I know that I am a perfect woman–someone who tries to show up as my best self despite all that weighs me down. For perfection is the end product of a woman’s wins and struggles every day.

All women deserve to be the perfect woman and feel like it. We don’t need to earn that title because we are already born with it. From dealing with excruciating monthly pains to bossing down a patriarchal society and all the unspoken pains that come in between, we are already molded to perfection. We don’t always have to wait and go through lengths of achievements to get recognized. Women don’t need over qualifications or a special month to be recognized because natural struggles make us perfect just the way we are. 

The month of March is already long, but it’s not enough to celebrate women. And while we know that the perfect girl can save the world someday, I hope we don’t miss honoring her regularly in her most mundane days.