Meow

I thought I had two ideas for an entry today, which would be both a first and a miracle. However, upon some thought, they are the same concept.

 

Rbushu (Robin) and I have struck up a nice virtual friendship. We have shared some of our armor chinks, as women are wont to do. In the course of this, it became clear to me that we sometimes display our weak and bad points. We don’t crow enough. I didn’t tell Robin the things I am proud of that I have done. I told her my weaknesses.

 

Onmiownnow2 (Lisa) recently gave a diatribe about how men have it easier than she does. I responded to her entry stating that women sell themselves short, and that men have their issues also. She accused me of being the girl who wants to make boys like them. I am older than Lisa, and I felt bad for her that she is taking her age so painfully and personally. She has so much going for her and she is so focused on menopause.

 

So I want to talk about how wonderful I am. It won’t be easy. I wasn’t raised to be that girl. I was taught that children should not be seen or heard and to never, ever brag about yourself in any way. There is always someone better than I am, so I was raised not to try to compete. Women don’t do that sort of thing.

 

Having been raised to grow up to be a housewife with 2.5 children and a station wagon with maybe some backup secretarial skills, I went on and got a degree after high school. I did marry young, but our careers were parallel. We had a child. We both continued to work and used day care. We shared housework. I fought for my equality if necessary, but generally accepted it as a given. I married someone who loved women and didn’t see them as objects. Unfortunately, we grew in different ways eventually and divorced. I then raised our child on my own while working full time. I returned to school as she got older and earned a master’s degree.

 

I was a social worker, which meant limited income but good benefits. I was awesome with budgeting. We traveled as much as possible. When we went to Mexico, I had my daughter learn some Spanish. She learned to say, “Donde esta el bano?” She was so proud. Of course, when the lady told her where the bathroom was, she didn’t understand a word of the answer, but luckily I did. Financially we never lacked for anything. Somehow we managed to have what we needed and I never went into any debt.

 

I did not remarry. I did not like the statistics regarding young girls and stepfathers. My job taught me some prejudices, I guess. I dated, but mostly stayed out of the field until she got older. I do not regret this. I made my daughter my primary focus and went with it.

 

My daughter and I were very close. I was able to teach her some skills that many young girls don’t learn. If something breaks, she fixes it. She doesn’t run around looking for a man to repair a toilet or kill a spider. As an only child of a single parent, she learned early to entertain herself. Parents used to call me and beg me to have her for the weekend. They told me she was so polite and charming, plus she was such a self-starter and kept their kids busy all the time. I raiseda great child. She wasn’t always easy, since she does have a strong mind of her own, but the rewards have been awesome. She has a boyfriend now who is in awe of how she grabs tools and repairs his house. He has learned to just back off and let her do her thing. Yet, she is also absolutely Miss Priss.

 

I am not that girl who wants to please the boys. I am very much not the one who sees other women as the enemy. I love my gf’s to death. If I date a man and I see it won’t work, I think about my single friends and who might get along better with him. I do not date married men. I love men and know they make good friends, too. I do not compete with women to get a man. Either we get along or we don’t. I am no pirate and I will not play dating games. I am who I am. I don’t need a man to define myself. Being catty is just cheesy and self-defeating.

 

In a previous entry I mentioned how women dress for other women. It’s a competition, and I don’t want to play. What I don’t get is how women insult themselves. When a man gets older, women say he gets better. When a woman gets older, women say she gets old. I don’t think men feel this way. If women would work with this idea, and feel the confidence and strengths inside them, they could stop degrading themselves about aging. A woman of 40, 50, 60, 70 is wonderful. She isn’t old. She is alive and experienced and probably closer to freedom than any other time in her life. How sexy is that? Very much so. So we get some wrinkles. So do men, and sheets, and socks. We earned those lines by living our lives. While we are hardwired a bit differently, still we are equals and I think we should revel in it! We need to crow about ourselves and remind ourselves of how wonderful we are. (You too, Remo. Grandma may be on the roof, but she has had a long and wonderful life!)

 

So tell me what makes you awesome?