February 25, 2026
Today in Ukraine, Ukrainian Women’s Day is celebrated — it is connected with the birthday of Lesya Ukrainka.
The image of Lesya has accompanied me since childhood. I remember the first time I visited her house-museum in Novohrad-Volynskyi. I saw her small bed. The space of her life. And in that moment, she stopped being just a portrait for me — she became a real person.
In childhood, we were often presented with Lesya as a “frail woman.” Sickly. Suffering. Enduring. The phrase “frail yet strong” is an oxymoron — a combination of the incompatible.
I am not drawn to the expression “strong woman.” To me, it sounds like “hot snow.” Not because a woman lacks inner resilience. But because I was not created to be a man. I was not created to prove that I can do everything on my own.
In Scripture there are words that often provoke resistance. They are addressed to husbands:
“…live with your wives in an understanding way, showing honor to the woman as the weaker vessel, since they are heirs with you of the grace of life…”
— 1 Peter 3:7
The word “weaker” sounds harsh to the modern ear. But for me, it is not about inferiority, as some might assume.
Not about humiliation. Not about weakness as a defect.
It is about vulnerability. About fragility. About something that needs to be protected.
A vessel is not valuable because it is strong.
But because it is filled.
Because it has form.
Because it carries something important.
I choose this kind of femininity for myself:
open to care.
open to gentleness.
open to encouragement.
I do not aspire to be called strong.
I do not need to prove that I can manage on my own. The circumstances of my life have taught me something else: we need one another.
A human being was not created to be autonomous.
When I say “I am strong,” it can sound like “I do not need anyone.”
And that is not true.
There is another image that is very close to my heart:
“He will cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you will find refuge…”
— Psalm 91:4
Wings here are not about physical power.
They are about covering.
About warmth.
About protection.
About tenderness.
This is the image of a woman that resonates with me —
not as a force that competes,
but as a space where one can hide.
Where one can be warmed.
Where one can simply be.
Lesya Ukrainka was not “strong” merely in a coarse sense of the word.
She was deep.
She was full.
She was alive.
And today, on Ukrainian Women’s Day, I choose not to prove strength.
I choose to guard my tenderness.
And to allow others to guard me.
Because we need one another.