A love letter to all the female figures in my life who help define me

To all the women who have helped me be me

Throughout my life, I have come to realise that a woman is never made but sculpted via the various feminine influences and role models in her life.

On International Women's Day, I took the time to reflect on all the incredible women who have come in and out of my life. Each one of them leaves their own unique stamp.

But there are only a select few who I can say have truly transformed me.

My Nan was there for me from the moment I entered this world.

She was one of the earliest female influences in my life, and taught me all about the strength instilled deep in women.

She found her strength throughout her late teenage years after World War II; her soon-to-be husband's family was not keen on him marrying a Catholic girl.

In those times, it was still seen as taboo for love to blossom between a Protestant and a Catholic.

Despite all the odds, she made it work. Even though they had exchanged vows on the front porch of a church instead of inside, and a lot of harsh comments by her mother-in-law.

Growing up, I remember her never taking flak from anyone, nor did she ever let a single person or situation dim her light.

My family remembers her as our rock; whenever there was chaos, she would bring us all together throughout both the good and bad times.

Each girl in my family inherited not only her strength, but also her gentleness.

There are many words I use to describe my mother, but the main one that always comes to mind is 'persistent'.

From the age of three, I watched my mum pick herself up from one of the most difficult moments our family has ever experienced.

She raised three children on her own, and made sure each of us was proud of who we were and where we had come from.

One of the earliest lessons I took away from her was how to pick myself up and move on, as there is more to life than fussing over a fleeting moment.

Even though I inherited her temper and sarcasm, I also take away from her the trait of pressing on and never giving up, even during the worst moments of my life.

I never understood how to love myself.

It's hard to believe now, but as an awkward teenager and even more awkward young adult, I knew how to love others but never myself.

I didn't know how to dress the way I wanted, I found myself unflattering; I didn't fully know how to make true friends; and I didn't see myself as anything special.

But, through a brief meeting at a university enrolment day, she came into my life. What drew me to her was her electric blue hair and gothic clothing.

After an exchange of a few words, I knew she would be part of my life for the long term.

She taught me how to accept myself and that who I am is beautiful, both inside and out.

She hugged me when I cried, celebrated all my achievements, and sat at coffee shops with me and listened to all my nonsense.

Over the years, boyfriends have changed, friends have come and gone, and she is no longer a goth - but now a self-described Barbie girl - but we have always remained as thick as thieves.

Not every single woman who came into my life was a force of good; unfortunately, some were cruel.

There have been a few of these women over the years, but this one stands out the most.

She would kick me when I was down and preferred to keep me in a state of desperation and neediness. I would question everything about myself, and her cruelty would make me want to turn away from the world.

She made me feel small so she could look big.

But when I think of her, hatred doesn't come to mind - more appreciation than anything else.

She taught me to be resilient, to push back when I didn't agree with a situation, and to take a better path in life than the one she had taken.

I took away one of the most important lessons from her: that vulnerability is not a weakness; rather, it can be a useful strength, but you don't have to share it with everyone.

There are four women in my career who took a chance on me.

First, was a digital editor at one of my early media jobs; she commissioned my first article and saw something in me that no one else did. Even though she rejected me for a job, she still took the time and care to nurture my talent and give me a byline.

Through that commission, I met my ACM cadetship trainer, who gave me my first real job in journalism. She is someone I hold close to my heart and consider a lifelong mentor and friend.

She led me to my current editor. A woman who many Leader readers would know by name. Without her support and guidance, I wouldn't be sitting at my desk today writing this article, nor would I have a career.

And finally, to my mentor, whom I aspire to be. She may work under a different masthead, but her creativity and passion inspires me every day. She has been one of my biggest cheerleaders, a shoulder to cry on, a friend, an editor, and so much more.

Each of these women has placed a vital piece in the puzzle of what makes up 'me'. They may have all come at different times and stages in my life, but I still hold each one in high regard.