There's a Little Girl Watching

There's a little girl watching.

      She might be your daughter. Your niece. The teenager bagging your groceries. The girl working her first job at the coffee shop.

          The young woman opening her first business because someone told her she was too much, too loud, too ambitious and she decided to do it anyway.

She's watching.
 She's watching how we react when a man makes a comment that makes our skin crawl.
She's watching whether we laugh it off. 
      Whether we change the subject. Whether we shrink ourselves to make someone else comfortable. Or whether we stand up.

        The older I get, the more I realize that courage rarely looks the way Hollywood told us it would.
It isn't a grand speech.
It isn't flipping tables.
Most of the time, courage is simply saying, "That wasn't okay." The world has changed.
Thank Godness for that.
        Women own businesses. Women run companies. Women are doctors, tradespeople, artists, politicians, tattoo artists, mechanics, musicians and entrepreneurs. We have fought for seats at tables that weren't built for us.

      But let's not pretend we've arrived. Because somewhere today a woman is being told to smile.
A customer thinks a compliment about her body is part of the transaction. A musician is trying to promote her work and has to awkwardly navigate inappropriate comments because she doesn't want to be labelled difficult. A waitress laughs because tips pay the bills.
A business owner stays quiet because she's terrified of losing clients.
A young woman sits there wondering if she's overreacting. She's not.

       One of the strangest things about being a woman in business is the invisible math we do every single day. Was that joke harmless? Should I say something? Am I making a big deal out of nothing? Will I lose customers? Will people think I can't take a joke? We have become masters at calculating our own safety and everyone else's comfort simultaneously. And frankly? I'm tired.

       Not because men exist. Not because humour exists. Not because awkward conversations happen. I'm tired because women are so often expected to carry the burden of making those moments easier for everyone else. Laugh. Brush it off. Don't make it awkward. Don't ruin the mood.

      Here's a rebellious thought. Maybe the mood deserves to be ruined. Maybe the awkwardness belongs to the person who crossed the line, not the person who pointed it out.

      As a woman who owns a business, and more importantly, as a mother raising a daughter, I've realized something. Standing up isn't actually about me anymore.

         If I stay quiet to keep the peace, my daughter learns to keep the peace. If I laugh off disrespect, she learns that's the price of being accepted. If I apologize for having boundaries, she learns to apologize for hers. I don't want that world for her.

        I don't want it for your daughters either. I want them to know that confidence isn't loud. Confidence is saying no without a ten-minute explanation. Confidence is leaving the room. Confidence is ending the conversation. Confidence is filing the complaint. Confidence is supporting another woman when she says, "That didn't sit right with me."

        There's something magical that happens when women decide to believe one another. Businesses grow. Communities become safer. Artists create freely. Entrepreneurs take bigger risks. Girls dream bigger dreams.

        The old narrative told us that women should compete with one another. Fight over the scraps. Protect our seat at the table. The new narrative? Pull up another chair. Recommend her business. Buy the ticket to her show. Book the appointment. Share her post. Believe her story. Defend her when she isn't in the room. Because supporting women was never just about shopping local. It's about building a world where girls grow up understanding that their voice has value.

        At Pampered Aesthetics, we talk a lot about confidence. People assume confidence comes from perfect skin. Perfect lashes. Perfect brows. A perfect body. They're wrong. Confidence is an inside job. A facial can help you feel beautiful. A treatment can help you feel polished. A little self-care can absolutely help you reconnect with yourself.

       But the most beautiful thing a woman can wear will always be the unwavering belief that she doesn't owe anyone silence. Not to protect feelings. Not to avoid conflict. Not to make someone else comfortable. The little girl is watching. She's watching what we tolerate. She's watching what we celebrate. She's watching whether we stand up for ourselves and for one another.

       I hope she sees women who are kind. I hope she sees women who are compassionate. I hope she sees women who build businesses instead of tearing each other down. I hope she sees women who take up space unapologetically.

        And I hope she learns that bravery isn't the absence of fear. It's deciding that the women and girls who come after you deserve a better story than the one you inherited. If standing up makes someone uncomfortable, so be it. Silence has made women uncomfortable for centuries. It's someone else's turn.

— Jess

Pampered Aesthetics

Where confidence isn't created. It's remembered.