I'm girlie in the sense that I like makeup, but I also love

In the vast tapestry of human existence, the balance between the masculine and the feminine, the delicate and the robust, has been a subject of reflection and contemplation for millennia. Carrie Underwood, a woman whose life embodies both strength and grace, captures this balance when she says, "I'm girlie in the sense that I like makeup, but I also love sports and man food." This statement is a powerful declaration of the complexity and richness of the human spirit. It speaks to the idea that no one can be confined to a single identity, that we are all a blend of contrasts—feminine and masculine, delicate and strong, nurturing and assertive. Underwood’s words reflect a truth as old as humanity itself: that we are not limited by societal expectations, but are free to embrace all aspects of our nature.

In the ancient world, this balance was often revered, celebrated, and sought after. The Greek goddesses, such as Athena, embodied both wisdom and warfare—the same deity who guided the warriors in battle also held dominion over strategy and intellect. Artemis, another powerful figure, was the goddess of the hunt and protector of wild animals, yet she was also revered for her independence and nurturing qualities as a protector of young women. These ancient figures were not just one-dimensional, but were complex embodiments of strength and softness, leadership and care, characteristics that Underwood embraces in her own way. Her love for makeup and sports, for beauty and competition, follows this ancient ideal of a multifaceted self.

The contrast between "girlie" and "man food" in Underwood's statement speaks to the broader tension between cultural expectations and individual freedom. In ancient Rome, women were often seen as caregivers and mothers, confined to domestic spaces, while men ruled the public sphere and engaged in political and military affairs. Yet, some women, like the legendary Livia Drusilla, the wife of Emperor Augustus, wielded power and influence in subtle ways, engaging in affairs of state alongside their husbands. Livia’s strength and political acumen were not diminished by her role as a wife and mother; instead, they were enhanced by her multifaceted identity. Underwood’s blend of femininity and strength mirrors this idea—that a woman’s power and worth are not determined by one singular aspect of her identity, but by the full spectrum of who she is.

Like the great warriors and leaders of ancient civilizations, Underwood recognizes that life is about embracing all of who we are—the parts that are traditionally seen as "girlie" and those that are often labeled "manly." The ancient Spartans, known for their fierce warrior culture, raised their sons to be warriors and their daughters to be strong, capable individuals who could defend themselves and their homes. In Spartan society, women were not only the bearers of children but the physical equals of men in many ways, often trained in physical combat and toughened by the harsh realities of war. Underwood’s love for both makeup and sports speaks to a similar philosophy, where a woman is not bound by stereotypical roles but embraces all aspects of her nature, nurturing and fierce, delicate and strong.

Consider the story of Joan of Arc, the young French heroine who, despite being a woman, led armies to victory and was celebrated for her courage and determination. Joan, much like Underwood, defied the norms of her time, which dictated that a woman should not be involved in military affairs. Yet, she demonstrated that strength and courage were not gendered, and that true leadership arose from a deep sense of purpose and self. Joan’s journey was a reflection of the belief that a woman can be as fierce and capable as any man, but she can also embody grace and nurturing qualities, just as Underwood does in her multifaceted love for both sports and beauty.

The lesson here is one of empowerment and authenticity. Underwood’s words remind us that we should never be confined to societal expectations or roles, but instead, we should embrace the full range of our being. Like the goddesses, warriors, and leaders of the ancient world, we are complex beings, capable of great strength and compassion, of softness and fierceness. There is no need to choose between competing aspects of our identity; rather, we must honor all parts of ourselves.

So, let us take this wisdom into our own lives. Embrace the fullness of who you are, without apology. Whether you are a nurturer or a leader, a competitor or a creator, embrace the contrasts within yourself—for it is in the blending of these elements that true power lies. Like Underwood, may we all find strength in our diversity and complexity, understanding that our value comes not from fitting into a predefined mold, but from embracing all that we are. In doing so, we honor our true selves, just as the warriors, philosophers, and leaders of old did.