Role Models, Heroes, and the Women I Love

[viciouswishes]

Most days, I'm a loner. I'm the critic in the corner with my clipboard dissecting what someone else has done whether it's writing, art, or frankly, not setting me on fire. Blunt and sometimes cruel things come out of my mouth because I don't roll them in cinnamon and sugar. You see, I'm allergic to both.

One thing I cannot and will not stand for is the women I love and care about putting themselves down. We all *know* that we shouldn't look like the women on magazine covers. We all *know* that we're better than the boys or girls that break our hearts. We all *know* that we can write better papers than the last one with the not-so-great grade on it or that our bosses would be lost without us. We all *know* that we look hot in that one dress. We all *know* that we're great women, people, friends, daughters, mothers, sisters, aunts, doctors, students, homemakers, grandmothers, sales assistants, secretaries, teachers, lawyers, writers, and future presidents. We all *know* that we can have our dreams.

But sometimes life kicks hard and things get sidetracked. I would've gotten back on my pony Crisco when he bucked me off if my parents hadn't sold him. I would've known how to drive stick if my driving teacher would've just let me use his car. I would've been a computer science major if the introduction class had been aimed at true Java beginners.

As my grandmother is fond of saying: No Excuses.

I'm glad that I didn't become a horse girl and had a zillion rabbits instead. I'm glad that I'm a creative writing major with a studio art minor. And I still plan on learning how to drive stick.

I think the excuses and the put-downs are thicker this time of the year. Valentine's Day is always sticky. It's incredibly girly, all that pink and red. There are those commercials with the women getting the shiny diamonds and chocolate. Shiny diamonds that equal societal expectations of perfect marriage, true love, and children. Chocolate, which tastes so good, yet makes us feel fat when we eat the entire box.

And while there's V-Day and Ensler's The Vagina Monologues, Valentine's Day is so incredibly ingrained in us. It's a cultural phenomena that we cannot get away from. Every day, we need to stick together, we need to remind each other just why we're special.

I want to hear stories from each of you about the women you love, the women who are your role models, the fictional women you're damn glad were written. I also want to hear what makes you special – from your greatest accomplishment to something you like about yourself.

I'll start us off by saying that I'm really proud of my mother.

Comments

[gingerannef.livejournal.com]

I admire my best friend. Her parents divorced when she was little, her stepmom wasn't the most pleasant woman around, and her dad was an abusive alcoholic. She came to live with me during high school and while we drove each other nuts sometimes, we have become closer because of it. She is always so strong and independent and beautiful, and she is the most creative and talented person I know. I will always admire her for her fearlessness and love for life and willingness to learn everything about the people and places that surround her.

[viciouswishes.livejournal.com]

It's funny how best friends are so much family that they drive you insane, but you love them just the same. When lornelover and I shared a room, we about killed each other (and Ethan), but I think it's a testiment to our friendship that we're still close.

Thanks for sharing.