She.

She picks up the war-paint and clutches it in her fists.  With each brush stroke across her face, she settles in behind the mask.  Gone the blemishes, the fear, the insecurities, the hurt.  Beneath the shield she can stand and walk tall.  Ready to face another day.  Ready to hide, to remain silent and unseen; shame will not find her today.  She has put down her sword, her weapon is her vanishing act.  And she is the master of disguise.  She is New Woman, she is Strong Woman, and she is also the Crowd.

New Woman has taken the leading role.  She is taller than the others.  Her shoulders more square, as if her very skeleton is attempting to shout deception from beneath the skin.  Her hips are narrow.  Her muscles large and powerful.  She stands alone to fight while the Crowd cowers.  She is so much faster than all of the others, so much stronger.  Her prominent jawline clenched in authority.  She squeezes her hands into fists, holding onto The Secret.  She effortlessly wins, and the audience praises her for being so brave and powerful.  But underneath…she knows.  She has cheated the system.  He may be hidden, but he is still there.  He will always be there.  But together, they have taken over Strong Woman.  They have conquered her, and she is no more.

Purpose tempts Strong Woman.  She is driven and determined.  She awkwardly stands outside of the Crowd, refusing to be one that cowers.  She is alone, for she is an outcast.  This world is not made for her.  She must be submissive and silent.  She must serve and remain unseen.  She must step aside to allow New Woman to take the lead.  For Strong Women are no more.

The Crowd forms an impenetrable circle.  They look towards Strong Woman and whisper lies.  They see her as the Threat.  Strong Women, they say, are bitter, heartless creatures.  They must be silenced and cast aside.

Because New Woman has the leading role.

One from the Crowd whispers to another “Look at Strong Woman!  Look how she stands with her shoulders tall and her head held high.  She is a disgrace to us!”  Another responds, “Does she think she can lead us?  She cannot, she is not like us, she climbs and tries to rise.  She does not know her place.”  The crowd move further away from Strong Woman.

Strong Woman looks down at her hands.  With these hands, she worked tirelessly to capture her identity.  She looks down at her feet.  With these feet she has danced the trails and allowed her spirit to rejoice within her.  Her pilgrimage has brought her Truth and only with that, can she have hope to rise.  She hears the whispers of the crowd, she knows the circle is closed.  She presses her hand to her heart and sees New Woman still stands triumphantly looking down at the Crowd.

Strong Woman considers the battle she could face to remove New Woman.  She looks to the Crowd for support, hoping one could see her heart, discover the Truth, and join with her.

But the crowd only sees her form and rejects it.  They turn in towards themselves and mourn for their identity, for it is lost.

Strong Woman looks up at New Woman.  She begins to walk.  New Woman dares her to challenge.

But no. Strong Woman walks on past and fades into the horizon. For Strong Women are no more.