There is one thing that continues to genuinely confuse, frustrate, and low-key break my heart: how much time we, as women, can spend critiquing each other… when we could be hyping each other up instead.
I mean really. Somewhere along the way, “supporting women” turned into an Olympic sport of side-eyes.
If we’re being honest (and let’s be honest), almost every woman has had another woman talk about her behind her back. And if we scroll through our own internal history? Most of us have probably done a little behind-the-scenes commentary ourselves.
And social media? Reality TV? Whew. They took regular shade and added surround sound. But that’s a blog for another day.
It’s wild how quickly we go into evaluation mode.
We see another woman and before we’ve even said hello, our brain is scanning:
Outfit analysis.
Hair review.
Lifestyle speculation.
“What does she do?” detective work.
“Is that confidence or arrogance?” internal debate.
It’s like we’re walking around with invisible scorecards.
But why?
Competition?
Jealousy?
Insecurity?
That tired old myth that there’s only one seat at the table?
Because here’s the truth: brilliance is not scarce. Success is not rationed. Confidence is not a pie — someone else having a slice does not leave you hungry.
And here’s an even bigger truth: when women thrive, communities rise.
Not just the women. Not just the friend group. The whole community.
Families are stronger. Workplaces are healthier. Organizations are more innovative. Children feel safer. Neighborhoods become more connected. When women feel supported instead of scrutinized, something shifts — and everyone benefits.
As a Black woman, I believe deeply in the power of women. I’ve seen it. I’ve lived it. I know what happens when women decide to stand together instead of size each other up.
And because of that, I feel a responsibility — yes, a responsibility — to support, encourage, uplift, nurture, and love my fellow women.
Now, technically, do women have to support other women? No. There’s no official rulebook. No secret sisterhood contract we signed at birth.
But so many of us choose to — because we know we’re better together.
We know collaboration builds more than competition ever could.
We know shared power multiplies.
We know that when one woman feels safe enough to shine, it gives another woman permission to glow a little brighter too.
It’s time to get focused on what really matters.
Find women who are different from you. Different backgrounds. Different styles. Different beliefs. Different experiences. And instead of leading with comparison, lead with curiosity.
Take the time to discover what you have in common.
Because here’s the part that really matters:
We have a whole generation of girls watching us.
They are paying attention to how we speak about each other.
How we treat each other.
How we respond when another woman succeeds.
They are learning what womanhood looks like by watching us.
So what do we want to show them?
Do we want to model rivalry…
Or do we want to model power?
The real kind of power.
The kind that says:
“I see you.”
“I’m not threatened by you.”
“There is room for both of us.”
“Let’s build something.”
Because when women rise together, communities don’t just survive — they flourish.
That’s girl power — not the cute slogan version, but the daily practice version.
The version where we choose to clap instead of critique.
The version where we replace scorecards with support.
The version where we understand that another woman’s success strengthens the foundation we all stand on.
Life is heavy enough. We don’t need to add weight to each other’s shoulders.
We don’t need to dim each other to glow.
When women thrive, communities rise.
Now that is what the power of being a woman really looks like. 💛
Dawn M. Edwards 