Pride stirred her awake. It gently coaxed her from a deep sleep and into a thoughtful doze. Her other half was downstairs making eggs, and she had already decided to wear black. Empowerment, solidarity, and strength were words that were with her that morning. They were good words. They made her think of her mother.
Leaving the house and walking down her street, she passed a woman in her purpose. This woman joined another, and another, until she was almost taken aback by how many women there were around her. All of them marching to work. It felt like the universe was giving its nod of approval. Soon enough, the women were joined by men and kids and teens, and the usual daily commute resumed.
Walking to work, she felt eyes on her, that some of the people passing her were double taking. Of course, this led her to believe that there was something on her face, or that her nose was bleeding, so she proceeded to take out her phone to check her reflection in it. Nothing. Just a glow. Her face was clear, and she was glowing.
Throughout the day, she passed female colleagues also dressed in black, and they exchanged knowing smiles. This was their day.
She wondered if she should mark the day with a celebration, a drink or a nice meal. But there was no need. The day was what it was, and she got all she needed from it.