A Foreign Correspondent Shares a Personal Message in Honor of Women's History Month

We’ve all been told to “take time to smell the roses” but I believe that to really appreciate the beauty in our lives, the saying demands that we truly cherish the things that bring us joy. With that, I ask you to visualize this.

Imagine a 7-year-old girl, frightened, alone. She has been ill-treated and abandoned. Her name is Rose and her story echoes the tale of other kids who have also been neglected. Now, as an adult, her fragility and innocence may feel as if they’ve faded. But her story is not one of a withered petal but of pristine beauty. She has grown despite infertile soil and is essentially a victor and not a victim. I am not Rose and yet I am her.

You see, by consistently featuring women who have overcome the tragedies of their childhood in my work as a journalist, I have discovered myself, my strengths, my passions, and my calling for social advocacy. I have also made remarkable achievements that I am proud of but too many times, my thoughts of my flaws overshadow them.  

But Rose as a metaphor for myself, and my passions are not the only flowers  I have failed to truly nurture. The moments with my best friends, my quintessential roses, have not always been cherished. My friends have helped my heart heal during times of heartbreak and helped me find strength in my weakness. They have added more color to my personality, helped me laugh, provided a platform for my humor, and kept my heart smiling. Essentially, they have made my life more gratifying. Think about the true friends in your life: don’t they make life happier and more enjoyable?

My mom, however, is the most beautiful Rose of all, a tender flower whose experience reminds me that the true essence of life is in the beauty of falling petals. I am forever grateful for her but only truly appreciated some of the sacrifices she made when I became a mom.  As nostalgia knocks at my mind, I think back to the times when she picked me up when I fell, the times she wiped my tears and kissed me on my cheeks. The times when she held me in her arms and told me everything would be alright.

Although I am an adult, I still turn to my mom like a child in need of comfort. Her words are as comforting to the ears as they are to the heart. Because of her guidance, I can help to mend a broken soul. She reflects so many aspects of me and is a humorous, strong, and vibrant woman. (What words come to your mind when you think of your mom? Have you recently told her what you think of her?)

This analogy of my Roses—my passions, my friends, and my mom—have helped me blossom into the woman I am today. I see shades of myself in them. But there are too many times where I have taken them for granted, times in one way or another I may have abandoned them and in turn neglected myself.

I would like you to take some time to think about the Roses in your life and find the ways that you can help them bloom. Find ways to better love and appreciate them.  Whether it’s your sister, your daughter, your mother or yourself, I urge you to cherish and appreciate all the special women in your life—and truly take the time to smell the roses.