My son was born a protector. When he was just two we found ourselves in front of an animatronic crocodile at the Rainforest Café. He shot an arm in front of his older sister and told her, “Back, Sissy, back!” He was the baby of the family and we hadn’t yet taught him to look out for his loved ones, but something within him came alive when the need arose.

He’s been fighting health problems since birth—could it be he learned to have a warrior spirit early on, or is the politically incorrect idea true that men are natural protectors? I have to say, I’ve noticed a great decline in male protectiveness over the years…cultural influences may have something to do with this. What do you think…nature or nurture?

I’m a 125 pound part-time security guard. Having said that, I guard the elderly at a retirement resort. My job mainly consists of desk work/people work, but when a security issue arises, I’m the one, or my partner working the far side of the building. When I first started working in the security department, I got a lot, and I mean a LOT of comments/jokes about being a guard looking as I do. I worked out, and still do, but six-pack abs and the ability to run laps around most people didn’t matter to the WWII generation. They wanted MEN in the department, even if they were old, fifty pounds out of shape and couldn’t lap the desk if they tried. Men, to them, are the soldiers and the protectors, always and forevermore.

Do you know when I became a soldier? Always. I grew up in the country, surrounded by cactus and boys. I went to a small country school where many of the girls were equally as tough and I had to learn how to defend myself at an early age. The staff turned a blind eye to most playground violence. I punched my first face when I was in fifth grade. In that environment, I learned not to rely on anyone else to protect me, and I’m grateful I learned that when I did.

My biggest advantage, ALWAYS, has been that people don’t expect someone who looks like me, and who is an introvert like me to even have the will to lift my fist.

Not that I don’t know my limits. I mean, I’ve punched faces, forcefully detached too-friendly men and have lifted more retirees off the floor than I can count, but when it comes to the more heavy lifting at work I call my friend—the guy– with all the muscles. I appreciate him, and acknowledge that he has a biological advantage over me in that arena.

Women, until recently, have been the main protectors of babies. This is, without a doubt, a cultural change because I’ve walked the pregnancy road, given birth, and am quite willing to rip anyone’s head off who would try to harm my children. Fact—like my son, from something deep and fierce inside me. Something too ancient to name.

But there are these hurt voices that say women haven’t been appreciated enough, or valued enough and we need to demand respect once and for all. I get it. There is much truth in this. I’ve been disrespected in many ways, including being a called “skinny, weak woman” at the exact time I was lifting my accuser off the floor.

The problem is, I’m hearing these voices about not letting disrespectful attitudes determine a woman’s identity from women who are doing exactly that.

Pregnancy and motherhood are no joke. It’s incredibly difficult—painful in all kinds of ways and I’ve had to put aside many projects I’ve felt passionate about to change diapers, attend field trips, and care for a flu-ridden child. I’ve had to neglect my own health/career/sleep to care for my children.

Isn’t that what a warrior does? When my son put himself in front of his sister, he was allowing the perceived danger to get to him first. When soldiers—real soldiers—fight for our country, they’re risking it ALL to protect us.

That is not a right, it’s an honor. It is complete selflessness.

Ladies, our wombs aren’t showcases for burdens, they are armor. Our biological advantage. God chose us to carry children when they are at their weakest, most vulnerable state. We are chosen to carry all those future Presidents and Doctors and Artists. Every Influencer, every Teacher, every Athlete, every Overcomer. We are their first shield.

When I see women marching for the right to remove children from their wombs, I don’t see virtue. I don’t see strength, I don’t see courage or liberation. I see an army of women hiding behind a political banner of fear.

We’ve been through too many battles to lose our honor, ladies. We have to be stronger than the leaders attempting to manipulate us into thinking we’re fighting for what’s right when all we’re doing is discarding the people who need us the most. The people whose voices we can’t hear. This is a cultural change that is not okay—it’s infanticide.
It’s okay to be afraid, but our army of protectors is dividing, which will eventually lead to the destruction of our nation. This isn’t an exaggeration. Take a good look at the state of our nation right now. Men, women, children. We are meant to be one united team.