Speaking very generally, I find that women are spiritually

Hear now the words of Gary Oldman, master of the stage and screen, who declared: “Speaking very generally, I find that women are spiritually, emotionally, and often physically stronger than men.” In this saying, there is no flattery for its own sake, but a recognition born of experience and observation: that strength is not always the roar of the lion, but often the endurance of the heart, the quiet resilience that outlasts storms, the spirit that bears pain yet rises again.

The origin of this insight lies in the age-old witness of humanity. Across history, women have borne the heaviest burdens—of childbirth, of caregiving, of carrying households and nations through war and famine. Where men are often praised for moments of glory upon the battlefield, women are seldom praised for the lifelong battles they endure in silence. Oldman’s words cut against the old pride that claims strength as the dominion of men, revealing instead that the deepest strength often belongs to women, whose spirits bend but do not break.

Consider the tale of Sparta. While men marched away to war, it was the women who held the city together, who raised the children, who managed the land, who sent their sons and husbands forth with words not of weakness, but of steel: “Return with your shield, or upon it.” Their courage was not lesser than the warriors’, but equal—though expressed in a different form. The men fought for hours or days; the women endured for lifetimes. Here we see that spiritual and emotional strength may surpass even the clash of swords.

Or reflect upon World War II, when countless women stepped into factories, fields, and offices while men went to the front. In Britain, in America, in Russia, they worked endless shifts under dire conditions, producing the weapons and tools without which armies could not have stood. In besieged Leningrad, it was often women who carried water, buried the dead, and fought famine with unyielding spirit. This was not fragile strength; it was the very endurance of life itself.

Oldman also speaks to spiritual strength. Women across cultures have been pillars of faith, keeping traditions alive when war and exile scattered their people. Consider the story of the mothers and grandmothers in Argentina’s Plaza de Mayo, who stood unflinching against a brutal dictatorship, demanding justice for their disappeared children. Men armed with guns could not silence them; their spiritual strength outshone the fear of death. This is strength not measured in muscle, but in the unyielding will of the soul.

What, then, of physical strength? Though men are often stronger in brute force, women reveal another kind of physical power—the ability to endure. The pains of childbirth, the carrying of life within the body, the long toll of nurturing and laboring—these are feats no battlefield can surpass. To survive such trials, and then rise again to live, to lead, to love—this, too, is a testament of physical greatness that is too often overlooked.

Therefore, O listener, the lesson is clear: do not mistake noise for power, nor speed for endurance. True strength often hides in the quiet places, in the hearts that endure suffering with dignity, in the souls that carry others when they are weak. Recognize and honor the strength of women, not only in moments of grandeur, but in the daily sacrifices that sustain the world.

Practical action lies before you. Look around you—at mothers, daughters, sisters, companions—and see the strength they wield. Respect it, learn from it, and support it. If you are a woman, know that your resilience is not invisible to the wise; it is the bedrock of humanity. If you are a man, let this truth humble you and inspire you to strengthen not only your body, but also your spirit and heart. In this way, all may grow in balance, and the world may be built not only by might, but by endurance and compassion.

So remember the wisdom of Gary Oldman: women are often stronger than men—spiritually, emotionally, and even physically. Let this truth be carried like a torch into the future, that all may honor the quiet and enduring strength that sustains life itself.