Dear Wonder Woman

Do you remember when you were small and felt like you were so weak and incapable? Have you ever had a moment where you faced a situation and thought, “I don’t have the strength for this”? It’s easy to see you on screen and think that you have it all, but I’m sure you’ve struggled too. You wouldn’t be called Wonder Woman otherwise; your very name speaks to a legacy of triumphing in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds.

But you’re also a woman in a world that speaks highly of its men while talking down to its women. You are a paragon in even that light, because you stand beside the superhero men and take your true place as their equals. I’m sure there are many ladies out there who could relate with having to deal with men whose egos are inflated to the point of narcissistic tendencies. (And we don’t blame you for putting Clark or Bruce in their places when they need it.)

No one can deny either that you’re beautiful, to the point of obnoxious, but you use that beauty as your strength too. In a world whose currency leans upon praising the eye-catching and derailing the mundane, you know how people look at you and judge you every single day. And you’ve learned to harness that attention as your own weapon, another to wield in your arsenal of tricks and maneuvers.

Most of all, though, I look at you and see generations of women gleaming in your eyes. I see the cashier trying to make ends meet for her kids, the business woman always attempting to rise up and break through those glass ceilings, the abuse survivor who has to learn how to trust and love again. I see a fighter, a warrior, but not wholly of the physical variety: there’s a woman forcing herself to stand after being beaten down by the weight of all she is supposed to be—because we all know our greatest enemies are the ones we see in the mirror.

I hear you in the strains of women’s anthems, from Helen Reddy to Beyoncé to every chart-topping tigress in the music world, and you probably marched with the women’s rights activists when they were pushing for the Equal Rights Amendment. You may be powerful in your own right, but you recognize that so many other women aren’t—and often through no fault of their own.

I also saw the echoes of you in the mother I lost, a woman gone far before her time, her candle snuffed out just as she was reaching her prime. My mother never failed to use her voice, for herself or me or anyone she felt was being mistreated. I watched as her own body turned on itself, sickness becoming a way of life in the days we shared together. And when she was done, she went out quietly, no goodbyes, as I held her hand and watched the heart monitor fall into silence. I couldn’t even cry because I just felt the numbness begin to take me over.

But now, years later, I can say that I wish I saw more of you—more of my mother— in myself. All too often I am keen to back down, bite my tongue, and refuse to rock the boat. Once, I thought that was a strength—I could deescalate before there was even a fight to be had—but now I recognize that I can be a chameleon of the cowardly variety by not standing up for myself—or others. I want to be more like you, more like my mother, more like the strong women who make it all look so easy while carrying inner turmoil that would break so many lesser hearts.

Wonder Woman, I know that you are what your creators make of you, but in you I see the potential for all women—then, now, and in the future. You told us it is strong to love, to care, to fight in our own ways that don’t necessarily lead to a battlefield with the greater forces of good and evil. You may not have taught me firsthand what it means to be a woman in the world, but your story is just one of many to lift the rest of us up and say, “You can be strong too. Don’t give up.”

I won’t give up. I’ll keep trying to be a better woman for myself, my family, and my community. The world may not depend on me the way the fictional universes depend on you, but I’ll still use the powers I have to make and leave behind a kinder world for the rest of us.

Thank you for existing and carrying on for the next generation of little girls who will start to wonder if they’ll ever be enough. I’m sure you’ll show them the way.

Sincerely,

An Admirer