One Billion Rising

I've had a lot of response from friends about performing in the Vagina Monologues.  Most of it centers around the:  "That is so cool!  I would never dare get up in front of people to do something like that!" variety.

I don't blame them.  Truth be told, I'm absolutely terrified of doing it.  For one, I've struggled with a slight speech impediment my whole life.  Most people don't notice it or if they do, they pretend that they don't... because they're nice people.  But I know it's there.  And I work hard to make sure it doesn't slip out when I'm speaking in public.  Most of the time I'm successful... but sometimes the lisp shows up and I suddenly sound like I'm drunk... and you're my new best friend.

Secondly... well, I've never been on stage before.  I've gotten up and spoken to rooms full of college coaches and AD's and it's no problem.  Because I speak their language.  I have played basketball in front of thousands of people and that's no biggie either... because I grew up on a basketball court.  But a stage? OMG. Do you know that they shine bright lights on you on a stage?  And that everyone - EVERYONE - is focused on you on the stage?  There's no hope that they're looking at your coach or your teammate.  There's no chance that they won't notice if you pick the wedgie out of your butt. 

It's just you and the audience.

And I should probably stop because I'm about to talk myself out of this.

But with all the congratulations and words of encouragement my friends have expressed, no one has ever asked why.  Which is totally understandable.  I mean, how much of a douche do you have to be to go up to someone who is currently trying to grow, and be all:  "Why are you doing this? Why 'grow' in this way?"

And the very simple answer to the question no one has asked is this:  I have daughters.

Do you realize that 1-in-3 women will be beaten or raped in her lifetime?

That's 1 billion women.  That's so many zero's I'm not even going to bother and figure out how many.  But I do guesstimate that that number is only slightly less than the amount of questions my 2YO can ask in one day.

I have never been a victim of physical violence.  But, I have friends who have been.

Too many friends. 

Women who I admire more than they will ever know... who faced horrors that no one should ever have to experience.  Most people who know these women will never know what they've been through, and I'm blessed that they felt enough trust to share their experiences with me. And humbled.  And honestly?  More than a little pissed off that they were ever hurt in such a way.  I want to throttle the people that did this to them.  I want to set their faces on fire and kick them in their polar vortex. 

So, when Good Company Theater asked me to appear in a production of The Vagina Monologues, how could I say anything but yes? 

Eve Ensler, the woman who wrote the Vagina Monologues, based it on dozens of interviews with women.  Her play addresses women's sexuality and the social stigma surrounding rape and abuse. In 1998, she established V-Day, which advocates that violence against women and girls must end. To do this, once a year groups around the world are allowed to produce a performance of the play, and use the proceeds for local charities and programs that work to end violence against women and girls.

Enter Good Company Theater, stage right.

And the beneficiary of the proceeds, YCC, stage left.

Add a few professional actors and a couple of complete novices who just happen to visit the coffee shop where the owner of GCT works on the side... and BOOM!  You have the ingredients to change your little corner of the world.

I've read all of the scripts and there were some that were just... well, it was too hard to think about my friends going through what was so plainly written on the paper.  It was too much.  So, I chose something that I could identify with. Somewhat.  Maybe next time, I'll have more courage to step into a role of which I have absolutely no experience with and speak their truth.  For now, I'm still adjusting to the fact that I'm on stage with a group of amazing women who are going to kill it... and I'm just hoping I can keep up.

The Vagina Monologues and the One Billion Rising movement are important.  They're important to everyone... not just survivors.  They're important because of friends that were abused... the ones we know about, and the ones we don't.  They're important because of our daughters.  Daughters who have so much that they'll already have to overcome and fight for in this world simply because they're female, that adding the threat of violence against their bodies and their minds is appalling.  They're important because of our sons.  The boys we raise alongside our daughters, and what we teach them at home... what society teaches them... what their friends teach them when we're not looking about what it means to be a man.  It's important to all of our children to see us treat each other with respect, and stand up for ourselves... and for those too hurt to do it for themselves.  

If we do that - if we change our culture in our little corner of the world - it will spread.  And it will make our world better.  

That 1 Billion Rising?  It starts with one. 

How You Can Tell If Your 2YO Is A Sociopath

During dinner last night, I was visiting with the girls about what they did at school that day.  Usually, the answer is "nothin'"... when I KNOW that they painted with apples, or played tagged or poured water onto their bed and got sent to timeout.

So, lately, I've been changing the questions to spark their memory.

Me: "Bird, what was your favorite thing you did at school today?"

The Bird:  "I made a heart and colored it.  

Me:  "Oh yea?"

The Bird:  "Yea.  But I didn't get to paint it (quivers lip). Miss Jennifer said I couldn't paint it today.  And I couldn't put stickers on."

Me:  "Oh.  Maybe you can do that tomorrow?"

The Bird:  On the brink of tears... "Maybe."

Me:  "Bean, what was your favorite thing you did at school today?"

The Bean:  Slyly looks over at her sister before announcing "I made a heart AND painted it AND put stickers on."  Continues munching her carrot as though her sister's face isn't melting off right in front of us. 

At this point, not sure if I'm more concerned at the delight that The Bean takes in her sister's misery... or the fact that she COMPLETELY MADE THE WHOLE THING UP.

Resolved

I'm a little late on posting my resolutions for 2014.  Every time I sit down to think about what I'd like to accomplish this year, someone needs their butt wiped... or has spilled some milk... or is mad because someone else is looking at her.

But to be honest, I'm just not a big fan of the idea that I need a list of things that I need to accomplish in 12 months to make me a better person...a happier, more fulfilled, slightly less heavy person.  Look, we ALL know that there's no way I'm going to stop popping my zits, no matter how many times I end up looking like I got hit with shrapnel getting ready for work that morning.  We ALL know that I will continue to procrastinate... because at this point, it really is an art form.  We ALL know that keeping up with the laundry is for women who I simply can't be friends with.  We ALL know that I'm not going to give up chocolate or Coke or any of my many other "vices".  Because deep down?  I really don't want to.  I love my vices. 

So, no lists.  

But, that doesn't mean that I haven't been thinking about my life.  About where I am, where I thought I would be and where I want to be.  And I keep thinking of the typical resolutions and how it's so easy to get overwhelmed by lists and goals.  Please.... I know me and I know that within a couple of months, I'll forget my resolution.  Probably because the kids will be fighting and all semblance of self-control will be out the window and I'll find the nearest mirror (preferably in my own home, but it could be at Target) and start popping zits.  Resolution be damned.

The other day I ran into a woman, a Presbyterian minister, who told me that her resolution this year was to live ferociously.  Ferociously. Wow.  What can anyone say about that?  Nothing.  And you know why?  Because it's perfect.  She's out there living her life... ferociously.  And we should all take note that we, too, should be living ferociously.  If only to say: "Hi, I'm living ferociously!  And you are....?"

OMG.  That - THAT RIGHT THERE - is poetry.  In word and in action.  POETRY.  I'm a big fan of this woman already.  She took one word and has owned it.  She has let it guide her in her decision-making process and it is helping her break down walls that she had up before deciding to live ferociously. 

So, I started thinking about the one word that has kept coming up in several areas of my life lately, and I've decided to follow her example and harness the word that I can't seem to escape as my word for 2014:  Grow.

I know.  Pretty anticlimactic compared to "ferociously", but screw it... that's my word and I'm sticking to it.  

I often look at myself and see a one-dimensional being.  I can do a lot of things well, but those things all have one thing in common:  athleticism.  I can do some nice things with a basketball or a volleyball and have played both competitively.  I can swim, run and bike and have competed in enough triathlons to make me seriously question my sanity.  I can pick heavy things up and put them down, which makes me feel uber feminine.  And I can catch a dirty diaper thrown 90mph across the room with my left hand, while I stir marinara on the stove.  For the love of Pete, I even work in college athletics because that's what I know... it's what I have the skills for. 

But those are things I've been doing since I was a kid (minus the dirty diaper skill... that's a newly aquired skill).  And they come very easily to me.  The old saying if you always do what you've always done, you'll always get what you've always got rings so true for me.  And in the past, I haven't dared step out of my comfort zone to try something new.  If something intrigued me, I was fine to acknowledge that I was intrigued, and then go play some volleyball.  I would blow it off as not worthy of my time or energy to try.  Because, you know, I might not be good at it.  I might fail.  I might fall so hard on my face that it leaves an indent in the floor.  And for me... failure is not an option. Ever.  

No more.

In 2014, I'm going to be open to any and everything.  I'm going to reach.  I'm stepping outside my "normal" and not letting fear stop me.  How can I tell my daughters to grow and try something new... if I won't?  They see that.  They see everything.  They know that I only do the things that make me comfortable... where there's no room for growth.  And I have a healthy suspicion that that is why they won't eat their broccoli.

To that end, I've been asked to perform a reading in the Good Company Theater's production of The Vagina Monologues this month. All proceeds go directly to the YCC.  If you are interested in tickets, go to the Good Company Theater's site.  The show runs February 20-23, and I am in the Friday/Sunday cast.  I'm so honored and proud to be a part of something that empowers women and does so much good for our community.This is so far outside my comfort zone that I'm not sure we're even in the same galaxy.  And falling on your face in front of a room full of friends and/or strangers... well, you know what they say:  Go hard or go home.  I'm going hard.

Grow.

I read this article today and it spoke to my soul.  Especially these two quotes: 

Most of us become mothers before we become ourselves. We don't grow into our minds, hearts or bodies until our 30s when we've already been parenting for years.

I feel like I'm failing as a mother most of the time and I'm not succeeding as myself either.

 I could have written those words. I should have written those words.  For years, I have been subconsciously fighting a... well, a calling.  For some reason, I have found it unacceptable to acknowledge that I want to write... that I think I have important things to say.  I read too many blogs and question whether or not my voice matters.  I have made excuses as to why I haven't been writing: writers block, don't have enough time, don't want our friends to see how crazy I really am, no one cares what I have to say or what I think, how can I compete with all of those amazing women writing blogs?  But, in the last few months, a few friends and the man that I sleep with have been prodding me to make a decision on this little hobby of mine.  Fish or cut bait, as Benny would say.

Grow.
 

I have never thought about writing as a career... but maybe I should.  Stranger things have happened, so why should I limit myself?  To that end, I'm going to say out loud - for the first time ever - my dream truth.  

I'm a writer.   

Grow.  

I'm making a personal commitment here and now to dedicate more time to my craft... my passion.  Who knows what it will bring?  Maybe nothing.  But I am finally acknowledging that I never will know unless I put my neck out there and...

Grow.