There’s a viral post that keeps popping up in my Facebook feed right now. I won’t go into detail because three weeks from now, it will be a different post but the problem will remain the same.

The authors of these posts don’t mean any harm. At least I don’t think they do. They have good intentions. And I will continue to believe the best of them all. But in their haste to build up one group of women, they cast judgment and shame on another group of women.

This is not a phenomenon or an anomaly. It is a constant in womanhood.

We women are a critical bunch. We are self-critical. We are critical of others. We are critical of action, inaction, words spoken, words implied, and words left unsaid. We hold ourselves and, in turn, others to impossible standards of perceived perfection that are so far from reality that no human being could ever achieve them. Ever. And instead of building each other up, we have allowed those insecurities that stem from our own shortcomings to magnify the microscopic imperfections—or perceived imperfections—in all of the women around us. Because shouldn’t they all be held to our impossible standards, too? It’s not enough that they are secretly miserable as they focus on their own impossible standards: no, they also must be accountable for their inevitable failings to every other woman on the planet.

And so we continue the vicious cycle. The one that weakens us. The one that debilitates us and sends us into gossip circles or panic attacks. The judgment zone. We go there thinking it’s a harmless trip, but it’s really the Bermuda Triangle.

The Cloak of Judgment

We wear judgment like a cloak supposedly to protect us from the icy glares and comments of other women. And that would be fine if we were Vikings or at a Renaissance Festival. Except we’re not. We are in Miami. In July. And that cloak is weighing us down and suffocating us instead of protecting us. Yet we hang on to it. We pull it close, our hands grasping both ends so it doesn’t slip off. And we stay miserable.

But what would happen if we let go? What would happen if we just dropped that stupid cloak? I mean, it’s 2019. Cloaks aren’t really a day-to-day wardrobe essential. Especially not in Miami. Especially not in July. If we let it go, what is the worst thing that could happen? We get an occasional burst of cold? Big deal. It’s Miami. In July, remember? A few icy blasts may just help remind us that we’re alive.

One of my favorite quotes from Ann Voskamp reads, “I won’t judge you for dishes in your sink and shoes over your floor and laundry on your couch. I won’t judge you for choosing not to spend your one life weeding the garden or washing the windows or working on organizing the pantry. I won’t judge you for the size of your waist, the flatness, bigness, cut or color of your hair, the hipness or the matronliness of your clothes, and I won’t judge whether you work at a stove, a screen, a store, a steering wheel, a sink or a stage. I won’t judge you for where you are on your road, won’t belittle your offering, your creativity, your battle, your work.”

This is what dropping the cloak looks like.

We Need Strong Supportive Groups of Women

If you have ever had the privilege of being in a group of strong supportive women, you know how empowering such a group is. And rare. There is no other force like it on the planet. Nothing even comes close.

And yet.

These groups are so rare and so few-and-far-between, that some women manage to go their entire lives without ever knowing they exist, let alone seeing one in action. These groups are endangered species.

Save the Endangered Species

And much like the endangered species that fill the pages of my son’s favorite animal books, strong supportive groups of women have encountered climate change, loss of habitat, and poaching to the point that they are threatening extinction.

How?

I’m so glad you asked.

Let’s examine these situations more closely. But first, please remove your cloak. I’m serious. This is a no-cloak zone.

Climate Change

Whether we stay home with the kids, work from home, or work outside the home, we feel inadequacy and guilt. The problem is that so often we see incomplete versions of other people’s lives that make it seem as though they are “doing it all.” Just today I read a post from an acquaintance on Facebook who shared a picture of herself with her two boys at some landmark I didn’t recognize. Her post implied they were at some place all good moms take their children, though she was proud of herself for not buying anything at the gift shop. I have never heard of this place. Ergo I am a bad mom. Right?

Wrong.

This new social media climate has been such a challenge for strong supportive groups of women. Suddenly we are isolated and put under a microscope. The problem is we put our messiest sample under the microscope and compare it a sample of someone else’s best.

We think to ourselves, “She’s got it all together. She’s super mom.” And then we envy her and degrade ourselves. We may even comment on such posts, “You’re super mom,” or “You are amazing.”

Who does that serve?

Now that mom feels the pressure to keep up her “perfect” “super mom” appearance while you sit in a puddle of self-loathing scrolling through more of your feed.

This is not our grandmas’—or even our moms’—world. The climate has changed drastically and continues to change. And strong supportive groups of women cannot sit idly holding on to the prejudices and traditions of previous generations without dire consequences. Strong supportive groups of women who have evolved to endure the climate change are putting unity and love at the forefront of their hearts and minds.

Loss of Habitat

Back in the day (way before my time), women had a myriad of reasons to get together to help and support one another: quilting bees, canning sessions, mending circles, and knitting groups. Do you notice the common theme? Work.

Now it seems if we want to get together with a group of women, it has to be a leisure activity. Like we don’t have another care in the world. As if somehow all of the work and responsibilities we have are all taken care of and now we can just sit around and blissfully enjoy one another’s company.

Is anybody else laughing?

It seems like we have relinquished gathering together with other women as a frivolous act of leisure instead of recognizing the strength we receive from one another and prioritizing it as part of our everyday lives. Strong supportive groups of women thrive in situations where work needs to be done and where support is spread evenly among all members.

Poaching

Some nasty poachers are seeking to eliminate the species of strong supportive groups of women. Some see the value and unwittingly kill the groups by singling out members and creating competition. Some ignorantly attack individuals and entire populations of women with hasty generalizations and false information. And shame. Heaps and heaps of shame. Body shaming. Money shaming. Forcing agendas and ad campaigns that leave women feeling inept, inadequate, and intellectually drained has become so prevalent, there is almost no escape.

And these traps aren’t just in obvious danger zones. No, they are everywhere. They are in the palms of our hands, in our living rooms, our kids’ hands, everywhere. They are in the advertising that tells us we’re not enough, in the bad news that constantly seeks to pit one group against another, in the sitcoms that trick us into believing we should equate to fictional characters.

Some traps try to pin us into shapes and sizes and careers and talents and hobbies and interests that belong to someone else. As if there is only one type of woman.

By the way, there’s no such thing as a type of woman. Because every single one of us is gloriously different. And different isn’t bad. Different isn’t inferior. The fact that every woman has varying likes, dislikes, hobbies, interests, talents, abilities, experiences, dreams, is exactly why our judgments need to stop. Drop them like the heavy cloak that they are and enjoy the airiness and joy of love, respect, and unity.