This ultrasound was different. I was not anticipating a heartbeat, and it was not just on my belly. This one was both external and internal.

The external part was routine.

It was when we were preparing for the internal exam that something extraordinary happened.

My technician paused and said, “I’m going to put some jelly on the wand, and then I want you to insert it yourself. I’ll take over after that.”

That surprised me. I didn’t think that was standard procedure and I said so. She smiled gently. “No, it’s not. But I think it’s important that you’re in control.”

Then she proceeded to tell me a story about a 73-year-old woman who had come in for the same procedure. My technician gave her spiel letting her know that she would put the jelly on the wand and that the woman would insert it herself.

The woman started to cry.

She told the technician that she had been raped as a teenager, and for the first time in a long time, she felt back in control of her own body.

That choice by my sonographer … simple, small, human … was so powerful.

My sonographer has been doing this work for over 25 years. She wasn’t inventing a cure for cancer or solving global warming. But in that small room, with that tiny wand and some jelly, she did something equally important. She gave a woman power over her own experience.

Nearly 81% of women in the U.S. report experiencing sexual harassment or assault in their lifetime—and about 38% in the workplace (NSVRC 2018; Kearl, Johns, & Raj 2019). These experiences range from the uncomfortable male gaze, to being subjected to degrading ‘celebrations’ like a stripper brought in for a man’s birthday (yes, that actually happened on an early job of mine), to unwanted touching, coercion, taking advantage of situations to rape. Most women have carried shame, fear, or low self-esteem as a result.

What my sonographer did was an act of quiet revolution.

She lifted some of that #MeToo weight simply by giving control back.

Empowering women doesn’t always require grand gestures. Sometimes, it’s as simple as, and as profound as, giving someone control over their own experience, listening when they speak, or advocating for their rights.

Like my sonographer, each of us has opportunities in our everyday lives to lift women up, restore dignity, and help other women reclaim the power that too often has been taken from them.

And maybe that’s what real power looks like: the quiet, everyday choices that remind women they are not alone, they are not voiceless, and they are never without power.