Ahh, but why do so many of us feel forced to explain away our need to propound the strength and intelligence, the right to live up to a physical, psychic, existential or intellectual challenge, of Woman?

In many ways we remain the plaything, if not the outright victim of Man, in conversation, imagination and in fact. There has been a most horrendous backlash against all the freedoms struggled for (and in many ways lost) in the 1960's, so DAMN the backlashers.

And outside of the First World, the life of Woman is a life of poverty and degradation, and a very short life indeed.

List away, my dear.

That said, I have rarely identified with Woman. My heroes are nearly always men, in fiction and in fact, and I have few; but here goes:
Pipi Longstocking
Nancy Drew (as opposed to the distressingly pink Trixie Belden)
Hermione (is that the name of the Harry Potter friend?)
Nevada Barr's heroine in her vast National Park Ranger mystery series
Dorothy of Kansas
The wicked witch of the west (I was she in the play)
Julia Child of the sliding turkey
Erma Bombeck
Galadriel
Eowyn
Sam's intended, Rose, who waited faithfully for him
Athena
Alice Walker
Maya Angelou
Billie Holiday

And if I were any better at remembering names, there might be more.