Now, don’t get me wrong—I like most women. We’re tough, strong and often smarter than the Penis People. There are many, many women I respect whole-heartedly. And yes, there are some women I wouldn’t even spit on. That’s just the way it is. Some people we click with, others we don’t and can’t and never will. But that’s human nature.
I had a stable first ten -12 years of life. After that, the family dynamic changed irrevocably and I kind of raised myself. Little guidance, little help and eventually I was basically told to leave the last few twigs that comprised our nest, and go find my life.
I went to college, got job….learned how to be an adult. A very young immature, inexperienced adult. I planned, I plotted, I schemed and succeeded and failed….repeatedly….and ultimately, got my college degree and my womanhood. The rest of my life to this point was all about career which ebbed and flowed like life.
And well, I’ll admit it once again,.. I made horrific choices in men. But I learned something from each sociopath. They are crazy, manipulative people indeed, but fairly decent life teachers as long as you understand who and what you’re dealing with.
But you grow with every success and failure. And you learn to survive heartache and you learn how to survive survival. Some join groups and clubs and participate in women’s marches. There is strength in numbers, but what you learn on your own, by yourself as your own woman, as your own person, are tremendous lessons. That’s why I’ve never been too keen on groups, especially any group with “stands with whatever”‘in its title. It’s fine for you…. I’m just not much of a joiner. I like boots on the ground. I prefer that than meetings and screaming vulgarities into a microphone. I don’t care to hear any more about what I’ve already learned at meetings where the organizers or speakers lecture from bullet points.—the by-products of someone else’s experiences,
No thank you.
If I had ever had a daughter, I would teach her independence first. Even before toddling, I’d teach her how to stand “with” no one….just for herself. I would teach her strength and resolve and how to defend herself in any situation, Against bullies, predators, disrespectful, and cruel adults….teachers, even. Not all adults deserve respect. I won’t beatify an asshole just because he died. And just because someone has endured enough decades to amass a few gray hairs but did so as a total conniving bitch, I can’t respect and I would teach that to any child of mine. Be civil, I’d tell her, but ask her to understand the flaws of humans. , That will help in fights with friends, and all these ridiculous bully issues I keep hearing about. I would want her to know and be upfront about the real evils in the world and that fairy tales often end in tears. Happy endings exist only in Mother Goose stories and Asian massage parlors.
But for my daughter, because the labrynth of life would be different for her. I’d teach her all she needed to know and then set her free to determine who she was, what she was….why she was the way she was, Gay….straight…..artist or capitalist personified. I’d still love her if she became a Democrat and elected to go to Texas A&M (Note to self: if this should happen, rewrite will ).
I would want my daughter to be herself, whatever that is. I want her to try ….and if she can’t do something,, accept it and find another thing to try. Play with dolls and Tonka trucks, Mix her gender metaphors and I wouldn’t allow her to feel wrong for merely playing. Playing is how we learn.
Unlike some moms I know, I wouldn’t thrust my moral compas down her throat. I’d present my values and mores, based on what I’ve learned and place then on a platter of sorts…..actually, more like a menu from a Chinese restaurant; she could choose from column A and Column B or even order a la cart.
I’d encourage her to do things…travel…learn a foreign language or two and understand that her principle role in this life is to help whoever, whenever in whatever way she can.
And when it’s time to let go, I would let her go. The urge to put training wheels on her adulthood would be strong, but I ‘d be even stronger–I’d refrain. But I’d constantly remind her of certain things. I’d go all Aibileen from the movie, The Help on her. I’d tell her to always remember—
….”You is kind. You is smart. You is important.”
And As I watch her leave, I’d tell her what I was never told; that I loved her….always….and that disappointment is an unavoidable fact of life…..but disappointment can never negate my love for her. And she would know this, awake, asleep, studying, partying,,,,even passed out on the Sig Ep couch.
I’d wave bye, with a lump in my throat….and silently wish her the best, pray for her growth and safety and that she’d make sound choices.
Then, I’d probably make myself a big ol’ drink and hook up with someone on Tinder.
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