oprah winfrey recently called her a hero. the book cover of her newly released memoir ‘a different kind of power’ calls her a global icon. and i’m one of those people who consider her a personal role model.
very high praise for one human. and the accolades continue, because we’re talking about jacinda ardern, and her bio is indeed impressive: 40th prime minister of new zealand, only the third woman in this position, the youngest female head of government in the world at the time, and only the second to give birth while in office.
what makes her truly remarkable
all of this is inspiring and important, sure. but in my eyes, that’s not what is so special about jacinda ardern. what is, however, so special about her is how normal, down-to-earth and relatable she seems. how she managed to rise in global politics, gain worldwide recognition, and still stay grounded in her values and idealism.
the memoir reflects the person
coincidentally, that’s exactly the same thing that can be said about her memoir.
what is so very special about it is how not special it is. it’s one human being putting to paper their experiences from childhood to today, with all their doubts, hopes and fears. no fuss, no fancies. no decorum, no pretensions. nothing standing between her and the reader.
what i felt, and why
or at least, that’s how it felt to me. and ‘felt’ really is the right word here, because her writing made me feel. often. and deeply.
i kept wondering why. what was it that touched me so emotionally? because while the writing is thoughtful and the stories moving, that alone didn’t explain how strongly i was reacting.
the only explanation i can come up with is that it wasn’t just about the events she shared, but the meaning behind them. her reflections on struggle, vulnerability, and staying true to yourself – they resonated in a way that felt intensely personal.
a connection i didn’t expect
now, to be clear, i would never dare compare myself to ardern – she is incomparable. but i do know what it feels like to be called too ‘thin-skinned’ on a regular basis. too sensitive. to be told to toughen up if i want to be taken seriously. to have my idealism dismissed or even mocked.
so yeah, saying that reading her story hit close to home feels like an understatement.
her words were balm on my bruised idealist heart.
why you might want to read it too
and as such, i recommend her memoir as an antidote to the world today – to the cynicism, the hopelessness, the status quo of the stereotypically male version of power and scarcity.
if you, too, feel worn down by the noise of it all, you might find in her words what i found: courage, warmth, and a sense of possibility.
reading her story was a delight and a personal privilege. thank you jacinda ardern for sharing it with us.
