The Power of Women Who Clap for Other Women

Let me tell you something we should have learned a hell of a lot sooner:

Another woman shining does not make your light any dimmer.

Her body isn't taking anything away from yours.
Her success isn't stealing yours.
Her confidence isn't proof that you're failing.
Her beauty isn't an insult to your own.

And her taking up space?

Doesn't mean there's less room for you.

Somewhere along the way, women were taught that we were supposed to compete.

Who is prettier.
Who is thinner.
Who is more successful.
Who got married first.
Who had the better career.
Who looks younger.
Who has the bigger following.
Who seems to have her shit together.

And honestly?

I'm fucking tired of it.

Because I don't want to live in a world where another woman's success makes me feel threatened.

I want to live in a world where we see another woman winning and immediately think:

“OH FUCK YES. LOOK AT HER GO.”

We don't need more competition. We need more witnesses.

There is something incredibly powerful about being witnessed by another woman.

Not judged.

Not compared.

Not quietly picked apart.

Witnessed.

The woman who says, “You look fucking incredible.”

The friend who tells you, “Go for it. You are more capable than you think.”

The stranger who compliments your outfit instead of wondering where you bought it so she can decide whether she likes you better in it.

The woman in the room who sees you shaking, nervous and unsure of yourself and says:

“You're safe here. Take your space.”

Those moments matter.

Because sometimes confidence doesn't come from inside us first.

Sometimes it starts because another woman believed in us before we were ready to believe in ourselves.

And that's the kind of woman I want to be.

I want to be the woman who tells another woman when her ass looks fantastic.

I want to celebrate the promotion.

I want to hype the business.

I want to share her post.

I want to recommend her work.

I want to tell her when she looks beautiful.

I want to remind her that motherhood didn't erase her identity.

That getting older didn't make her less desirable.

That gaining weight didn't make her less worthy.

That changing careers isn't failure.

That starting over isn't embarrassing.

That being different isn't something she needs to apologize for.

And when she walks into a room feeling like she doesn't belong?

I want to be the bitch who pulls up a chair and makes room.

Because women don't need more people reminding them where they fall short.

We've already got mirrors for that.

We need people who remind us of everything we've forgotten about ourselves.

Your confidence doesn't threaten mine.

This is something I wish more women truly understood.

You can be gorgeous and so can I.

You can be successful and so can I.

You can be sexy and so can I.

You can wear the tiny outfit.

I can wear the dramatic black lace.

You can be covered from head to toe.

I can be practically naked.

You can be loud.

I can be quiet.

You can be soft.

I can be intense.

You can be the woman everyone notices when you walk into a room.

And I can be the woman standing beside you cheering like an absolute lunatic.

None of that takes anything away from either of us.

There isn't a limited supply of beauty.

There isn't a quota on confidence.

There isn't one seat at the table reserved for “the successful woman.”

Pull up another fucking chair.

This is why safe spaces for women matter.

When a woman walks into a boudoir studio, she isn't always walking in feeling confident.

Sometimes she's nervous.

Sometimes she's uncomfortable in her body.

Sometimes she's spent years putting herself last.

Sometimes she's spent so long being a mother, a partner, an employee, a caregiver, or the person everyone else depends on that she's forgotten what it feels like to simply be herself.

And sometimes she just needs someone to say:

“You don't have to know how to do this. I've got you.”

That's what I believe women deserve.

Not pressure.

Not judgment.

Not comparison.

Not a room full of women silently wondering who looks better.

A room where women hype each other up.

A room where we celebrate the woman in front of us instead of comparing her to ourselves.

A room where you can try something new without having to already be confident at it.

A room where you can show up exactly as you are and slowly discover that maybe...

you were never the problem.

Maybe you just needed somewhere safe enough to see yourself differently.

So clap for her.

Clap when she gets the job.

Clap when she leaves the relationship that was destroying her.

Clap when she starts over.

Clap when she launches the business.

Clap when she gets on stage.

Clap when she wears the damn dress.

Clap when she posts the photo she's been terrified to post.

Clap when she decides she's done shrinking.

And when another woman walks into her first boudoir session nervous as hell?

Clap for her too.

Because maybe she isn't there because she already loves every inch of herself.

Maybe she's there because she's finally ready to start seeing herself as a woman worth celebrating.

And if we can be part of that?

If we can help another woman feel safe enough to take up space, feel beautiful enough to be seen, and brave enough to step outside the version of herself she's been hiding behind?

That's something worth fucking celebrating.

So stop waiting for another woman to fall so you can feel tall.

Stand beside her.

Lift her up.

Celebrate her.

Make room for her.

And let her do the same for you.

Because the most powerful room isn't the one where one woman is standing at the top.

It's the one where every woman is reaching back to pull another one up.

And personally?

I'll be over here making fucking room.