My brother, Chris was older and taller, so I truly was trying to catch up, but I was also striving to prove to him and whoever else was watching, that I was just as tough and just as brave. He would pick the highest tree branch to climb in the tallest tree and I would follow, no matter how scared I was, just to sit next to him in that tree.

We played “chicken” with pocket knives and went on some pretty scary adventures together. I never hesitated. Eventually I wanted to prove that I was not only as brave, strong and tough as my brother, but maybe even tougher, braver and stronger.

By puberty it got kind of complicated though. I remember feeling cheated and almost defeated by the fact that I was a girl and that it could no longer be ignored. I had boobs and I had a period and the guys didn't. It seemed unfair.

Playing camel fights, which involved riding piggy back and going at it with the opposing team until someone got pulled off the back of their “camel,” at a certain point, was no longer a game I could participate in. It hurt when I fell off my camel’s back, and it never used to. Also, all of my brother's friends started treating me differently. It all got pretty confusing.

I learned that these things that made me a girl, would eventually make me a woman and being a woman meant I would have to be stronger, tougher and braver.

In college I still had a lot to prove. Being in theater and music (two very competitive worlds) was all about proving myself. For me, being an actress  was about proving that I was not someone who would be content playing the Nurse, The Mom, The Mother In Law, or if I was lucky, The funny Best Friend. I wanted the limelight not the traditional sidekick role, saved for the non-ingénue type.

I soon learned that my chances were pretty darn slim. Not because I didn't have the chops, but because most juicy roles that directors were interested in directing were for men, or a very specific type of woman and I was not that type.

Eventually I took control of the situation by joining an improvisation group. Improv is wide open. You can play any role you are brave enough to attempt in front of an audience. The rules of entertainment are very squishy and you mostly have to be quick on your feet and funny. It really helps if you are funny. And I was.

Being funny, and laughing at the ridiculousness of it all did me good. It made me stronger and most certainly braver. I was finally cast in a few plays, including an all-woman cast of “Waiting For Godot.”  I constantly pushed the envelope when it came to auditioning-trying to get directors to see me for how I could act but in the end I found the audition process pretty demoralizing. Improvisation was a lot more fun.

The next logical step career-wise was stand up and the thought of being on stage by myself seemed to be more than I was ready to handle.

As a young mom, I was all about proving that my soon to be husband and I would raise our child and soon to be children, our way. It was in childbirth and as a new mother that I think I really connected with being a woman for the first time. I felt like I fully understood my instincts, my nurturing way and a protective fierceness that come with motherhood. It was powerful!

My husband and I jumped in to parenthood together with both feet come hell or high water. We knew we wanted to raise our sons to be good men out in the world. I didn't really feel competitive as a new mom, except maybe in playgroups when I wanted my son to show off his smarts and would find myself comparing him with other kids and of course comparing myself with the other moms.

We women, we do a lot of that—comparing. I never had an interest in competing with other women in that high-school kind of way. I knew where I stood in the hierarchy of popular girls, but as a new Mom I was more assured that I was righteously right in how I was raising my sons—especially when they were babies. Looking back, I think that was how I found my confidence as a parent. I was 25 and a mother of two boys. I needed to at least appear confident even if I was learning as I went.

As an adult, with my kids part-way grown, I started seriously playing and writing music and pushing myself to play my music out in the world. My creative-self was once again ready to bust out and I couldn't hold it back.

My husband encouraged me and supported me fully. I put together bands with all women, with all men and combinations of both. I played, ate, drank, smoked, swore and spit with my band mates and I was once again out to prove that I could do it. I could make it in the music business and be a mom and keep up with the guys. It was a lot to prove and I met some other great and powerful women who out there trying to do the same thing. Some were moms, some were not, but all were as driven as I was, some even more so.

All the women were inspiring if not always supportive—let me tell you, the rock and roll world for women in the late eighties and early nineties was very, very competitive. We were tough because we had to be. We were busy trailblazing for the rocker girls of the future. We didn't always play nice with one another.

Now that I am in my fifties, I don't feel like I have to prove much of anything. I just need to do the things I still want to do in this life. I think that might be what the second half of life is about.

I am not settling in, far from it, but I don't feel like I am trying to catch up with anybody either. I have plenty to learn, still plenty to say and much to do and I have never been surer about that. I am comfortable in my own skin. I know more about who I am than any other time in my life.  It's been a pretty wild ride so far and I see more bumps ahead, but life would be pretty boring without a few bumps in the road.

Bunk.

The blood-price of freedom was paid long ago, and those who paid it are dust and ashes. The last war we fought to actually “preserve” our freedoms ended about the time my parents were born. Our citizen-soldiers offer up their lives to defend American interests (and sometimes "interests"), to project our power abroad, to succor our allies and make our enemies wary.

But I don't "owe" them for my freedom. In fact, we owe them no debt at all.

For how can one have a debt that can never be repaid?

The young men and women who join our military do so voluntarily. They do it for all sorts of reasons, better or worse, cogent or foolish. Because they volunteer, you and I (most of us, really) never have to serve. Our all-volunteer army means I never had to be drafted. That I never had to learn to shoot people, to apply a tourniquet to a shattered leg, to be broken down and rebuilt as a soldier. These youths learn to do these things in my stead, so that I can sleep and dream and hold my children, never fearing that the knock at the door is a summons to the draft. 

And these youths, these adults-who-are-almost-children go forth, and walk dusty roads thousands of miles from home, and sometimes they die.

How can I repay a twenty-year-old kid for his lost legs? How much recompense should I pay the soldier who's about to scream and cry and die this afternoon? Will they send me a bill, totaling up all the blood and pain and fear these warriors live through?

No. Because we can never repay. And really, they don't expect us to. Not exactly.

The only gift we can give back is our gratitude. That doesn't mean a simple "thank-you," either. I try (some days more than others) to “live” gratefully, to count myself blessed that neither I nor my children are forced to learn to kill, to shoot at other men and women and almost-children who have been taught the same terrible skills but had the misfortune to be born somewhere else.

As soon as I get home, I am going to hold my children, and kiss them, and tell them I love them. I'll hold my wife's hand and kiss her, too, and we'll all sit down inside our house—our home where the lights are bright, the food is good, and we are safe.

And so this month, the month we set aside to honor our veterans, I would like to give an advance thank-you. A thank-you to the young man or woman who is dying or killing or running scared at that moment when I kneel to kiss my children, or when I get my welcome-home hug from my wife.

May you someday have the blessing of such a homecoming, in the fullness of time.

Age: 72

Occupation: Energy Healer – Transition Facilitator

Favorite flower: Pansy

Favorite book: The one I’m most enjoying in the moment.

If you could have lunch with any woman in history who would it be and why? I’d have a family lunch with my mom, grandma and great grandma at a time in their history when they didn’t have Alzheimer’s so we could share the challenges, changepoints, and life-enhancing gifts we’d received in our lives. It would be fun as adults to exchange the wisdom we gained and what we feel/felt most blessed by.

What did you think you knew ten years ago about being a woman? That my sense of “wholeness” – empowered and enlightened living – come from being in touch with my True Self – my Spirit – not just my mental, emotional, physical self. For more than 30 years I’ve realized the journey “in” creates the foundation for the love, joy and peace I was seeking. I’m spirit having a physical adventure and this understanding changed my life completely. I moved from limiting to unlimited possibilities. My connectedness to All That Is puts light on my path, love in my heart and gratitude in every now moment. 

What are you sure you know now? That we’re “at choice” in every moment. Our thoughts trigger feelings and behavior and learning to be aware of what we’re focusing our energy on influences where we end up. Even though It sounds simple the results are profound. When we focus on what we want, rather than worry about what we don’t want, our life energy is directed toward, rather than away from, life-enhancing outcomes. Each choice allows us the opportunity to ask ourselves…”Will this take me to, or away from, a result that expands my opportunity for the highest and best result?” Choices are power-full!

What do you hope you’ll know in the future? That I’ll understand even more about bringing in universal energy to heal and support myself and others.

For the generation of girls and women behind you what piece of advice can you offer them? You are unique. There’s no one else like you and that’s a beautiful gift. Remain true to your inner guidance as you make your choices because attempting to live up to everyone else’s unrealistic expectations will move you out of integrity, damage your self-esteem, and undermine your ability to live life fully. Feel empowered and purpose-full by making life-enhancing choices and enjoy the bumps and blessings of life that bring you your own wisdom and fulfillment.

Finish this sentence: Being a woman allows me to… blossom into being all that I can be. To play whatever roles I chose to. To make choices that expand my learning, wisdom and ability to live love fully. To “go for it” and see where life takes me!

The funny thing is, moving isn't what it used to be. Don't get me wrong. It's still the dirty, frustrating, time-consuming, pain in the ass process of old. And the test it puts on a relationship? Well, let's just say it's no wonder the divorce rate in this country is as high as it is. The difference now, however, is there are a number of services and apps that make moving much more personal, manageable and, dare I say, easier. 

Start by finding your new home

Ok, actually back up one step. First, start by finding out how much home you can realistically afford. Looking at homes $200k outside your price range is going to make everything you can afford look like a dump. Once you have the money stuff sorted out, apps from companies like Zillow (free for iPhone/iPad, Android, and WindowsPhone), Trulia (free for iPhone/iPad and Android), and Realtor.com (free for iPhone/iPad, Android, and WindowsPhone) let you do the work of a real estate agent right from the comfort of your couch or even from your car while out hunting for homes. Now, I'm not advocating that everyone stop using real estate agents. Though that is a completely legitimate option given all the tools and resources available today, there are still many advantages to having a professional on your side during the home buying process. When it comes to actually finding options for a new home, however, you have as many (or more) tools available as they do. While all three of the aforementioned apps differ slightly in functionality, they all offer great features that make tracking down your perfect next home simple and enjoyable. The ability to search by state, city, and Zip code lets you zero in on your desired neighborhood. You can look for homes in map or satellite view, showing only those homes that meet your specific criteria (e.g. price, number of bedrooms, etc.), and see all the standard RMLS information you would get from an agent. One of my favorite features is the ability to save houses to a favorites list, which makes going back to compare homes very easy. The apps will also send you alerts when anything changes regarding your saved properties. You'll know as soon as the price drops or the offer status changes, which can be very helpful when searching for a new home. 

Getting ready for the big day

One of the most unfortunate, and inevitable, consequences of buying a new home is the almost immediate influx of junk mail. No matter how ironclad the privacy policies are of the various agents and bankers you work with, you will be indundated with unwanted offers and solicitations the moment you put your home on the market. Thankfully, there's the PaperKarma app from Readabl, Inc. (free for iPhone, Android, and WindowsPhone). Using PaperKarma is as simple as snapping a photo of any junk mail addressed to you and tapping the "Unsubscribe" button. It's that easy! PaperKarma uses a bit of the junkmailers own tactics against them. They've built a massive database of mailers which they use to identify the senders based on your photos. They then send a removal request to the companies on your behalf and a few weeks later, no more junk mail for you. Besides the lightening the load on the U.S. mail service, PaperKarma is helping to reduce the environmental impact of millions of pieces of unwanted junk mail each year. I had been successfully using PaperKarma for over a year before we decided to move, so it was great to already have it installed when the junk mail began showing up even before we moved. 

In closing, I may have ultimately conceeded the battle and purchased a new home, but not without geeking out the process quite a bit. As it turns out, it wasn't all bad. Now I have more room for gadgets and homebrew equipment!

Happy moving!

What stood out to me most while watching it was a rousing speech shortly before the film’s climax in which Merida makes an argument for rejecting the shackles of her culture’s traditional marriage customs in favor of allowing people to marry whom they choose. While the literal backdrop of her speech is a rejection of betrothal and an embrace of marrying for romantic love (a radical idea for the time period in which this fairy tale takes place), its current political implications are obvious. Following in the footsteps of Disney’s Mulan, probably the first gay children’s movie, Brave is making a compelling case for marriage equality. That it manages to weave it so seamlessly into this charming fantasy movie is not only a pleasant surprise, but also a nod to this studio’s talent of infusing its films with meaning.

As I’m prone to do after I detect some sort of social or political message in a film, I started contemplating the possible political leanings of the studio that released it (and to preempt those who might accuse me of reading too much into things, I think it’s folly to disregard potential meaning buried within any piece of art, including movies intended for children). My default assumption, of course, was that Pixar was pushing a standard progressive message. However, that didn’t quite compute; after all, Pixar is the same studio that released 2004’s rousing anthem of individual greatness, The Incredibles, and 2010’s staunchly anti-Communist Toy Story 3. What gives?

Something tells me that anyone who a) is sympathetic to Communism, and b) has seen Toy Story 3 has already picked up on this theme, so I don’t think I’m at risk of offending anyone when I say that the film is essentially a rebuttal to that collective economic system. In Toy Story 3, Buzz, Woody, and their other animate toy pals get shipped to a daycare after their former owner, Andy, goes to college. Life under the private ownership of Andy was great for the toys, but in the daycare, where they experience public ownership firsthand, things aren’t so hot. At first glance, the daycare appears to be an egalitarian utopia, with caring leaders committed to the idea of everyone doing their fair share. However, the new arrivals soon find themselves assigned to the worst of all roles: enduring brutal treatment at the hands of the kids in the dreaded “Caterpillar” age-bracket in a demonstration of the tragedy of the commons.

Our heroes express their concerns to the self-appointed leader of this dystopia, Lotso Bear, who gently assuages their concerns. However, Buzz soon realizes that Lotso and his inner circle exempt themselves from the rules they forcibly impose on everyone else, including service in the Caterpillar Room. Like in George Orwell’s classic Animal Farm, all toys in this society are equal—but some are more equal than others. In this way, the film echoes a common critique of Communism: that its stated egalitarianism masks a stratified society, wherein a privileged decision-making class elevates itself above the proles, all in the name of some common good. Surprisingly, the most articulate spokesperson in opposition to Lotso’s totalitarian regime ends up being none other than Barbie, who rebukes him during their final confrontation by stating that “authority should derive from the consent of the governed, not from the threat of force!”

The Incredibles, meanwhile, isn’t specifically anti-Communist, but it espouses a different sort of philosophy that doesn’t get much play with the left: individualism. The film unapologetically praises the greatness of some people and derides society’s elevation of mediocrity. Anyone even passingly familiar with the writings of a certain controversial libertarian icon will recognize this theme’s roots in novels like Atlas Shrugged and The Fountainhead.

In The Incredibles, society turns against the superheroes that once defended them, forcing them to lives of normalcy, all in the name of not upsetting the status quo. Mr. Incredible and his wife, Elastigirl, eventually have children of their own, both of whom also have to hide their gifts from the world. Mr. Incredible laments his dull, suburban existence, as he knows he’s meant of being something greater, while society’s celebration of mediocrity increasingly grates on him; when Elastigirl chides him for missing their son Dash’s fourth-grade ‘graduation,’ he complains that “they keep creating new ways to celebrate mediocrity” while condemning greatness. Eventually, a jaded figure from Mr. Incredible’s past, who has no powers of his own, decides to get revenge on his former hero by distributing technology that will elevate the rest of mankind to the same strata of the superhumans. His explicit goal is to equalize everyone’s abilities, thereby ensuring that no one will ever be special again; basically, he’s Ellsworth Toohey with a mask and cape. In the end, the Incredibles defeat Syndrome and stop his Watchmen-like plot, causing the rest of the world to remember that superheroes truly are better than them, and that maybe they should just get the hell out of their way.

So, what conclusions can we draw from this? Are the people at Pixar a bunch of gay-marriage-loving, anti-collectivist libertarians? Perhaps, but some caveats apply to this little thesis of mine: for one, it doesn’t cover all of Pixar’s films, and besides, it’s not as if any film studio is a hivemind churning out a singular message in all its films (which would be ironic in this case). Plus, if I were a cynic, I could also lump Wall-E in here and claim that the apocalyptic future for Earth it features is a critique on the consequences of rampant consumerism and unregulated, laissez-faire capitalism.

Still, I do think a general pro-freedom theme runs through a lot of the studio’s films, and Brave, regardless of which side you take on the topic of gay marriage, is worth seeing (although it barely even made me cry once). Regardless of your feelings about their politics, though, the studio deserves props for making wonderful, imaginative movies that are primarily entertaining yet almost always meaningful. And if you can’t get on board with that much, that’s cool—just remember to stay the hell out of their way.

"Surprise! We're painting," she declared with an impish grin.

I swallowed the bile rising in the back of my throat. My husband squeezed my arm. Coughing, I asked “We're what?"

“We’re double-date painting.”

The only response I could muster was a half-hearted, “Okay,” through clenched teeth. “What does that even mean?”

“Wipe that grimace off your face,” she said tugging me down the street while our husbands shrugged and followed along. “It’s going to be a blast. We’ll loosen up with a glass of wine and then we’ll create masterpieces.”

“But, I can’t paint,” I protested.

“Nonsense, anyone can paint. Plus, they walk you through it step by step. I promise you’re going to leave with a work of art to hang proudly on your wall.”

Easy for her to say. She’s one of those people with an esthetic eye. Over the past two decades of our friendship, I’ve watched with envy as she’s taken up throwing her own pottery, designing a lush backyard retreat, created a gallery of artwork on her living room walls, sewed curtains and valances, and dabbled in an assortment of other artful projects that strike her.

I'm NOT artistically inclined—at all. The only “D” I received in high-school was in my home economics class. Our final project was to handcraft a locker caddy with fabric and zippers. I failed miserably.

Even my fifth grade lunch buddy who I meet with once a week has suggested we play board games instead of trying to paint watercolors or step-by-step dinosaur drawings. In her words, my dinosaur looked like something you’d find in the kindergarten pod. Ouch.

It’s okay though. Words are my medium. I understand that. In fact, I’ve been quite content appreciating art from afar and avoiding any sort of public art participation until the “art ambush” this weekend.

Our double date was at Vine Gogh Artist Bar and Studio in SE Portland. The space is warm, welcoming and complete with all the gear you need to feel like a real life artist—aprons, easels, canvasses, brushes and a paint palate ready for blending.

My first stop was the bar. Armed with a glass of vino in one hand and my paint brush in the other, I was ready to dive into the experience.

Co-owner, Jenny Schildan and her husband Paul were our instructors for the evening. Their playful banter and expertise hit just the right balance and helped to ease my nerves. As did the wine. When in doubt, order a second glass.

Our mission for the evening: paint a chicken and rooster on a blank canvass. I opted for the chicken, leaving the rooster and its wild, intimidating tail to my husband.

“Chickens, let’s start with you,” Jenny said to the class over the background music. “Pick up your pencils. We’re going to start by drawing a line down the middle of our canvasses.”

I took a big swig of wine and grabbed my pencil.

On a small stage she showcased her original chicken painting. It looked like something I’d pay big bucks for at an art walk or gallery.

The voice of high-school anxiety ran through my head. Where’s the middle line? Why didn’t I bring a tape measure? Should I stand up and look at where other people are placing the line?

Jenny’s voice continued on to the next step. If I didn’t draw the damn line soon, I’d be left in the dust. So, with shaky hands I drew a pencil line down the middle of my canvass. That single line was by far the hardest step. Much like with anything in life, it’s taking the initial plunge that is equally terrifying and gratifying.

Before I knew it we were an hour into the class. My chicken was twice the size of Jenny’s (or anyone else in the class I would later learn) but it actually looked like a chicken. I was creating a chicken. Shocking.

As the evening wore on we added layers of color to our canvasses. I’m not sure if it was the fact that I was feeling a tad lightheaded from a second glass of wine or because my painting was looking more and more like something I might hang on my wall, but I didn’t even flinch when Jenny came by to check on my progress.

“Wow, I really like the size of your chicken,” Jenny said as she peered over my shoulder.

I winked at my friends and husband. That’s right. She likes my painting. My confidence swelled.

Now, I could stop the story here, but to be fair when we got to the step of painting the chicken’s face I had another minor setback. I have no shame. I’ll admit it; I called Jenny over and had her sketch the face for me. By this point I was fully committed to hanging my art on the wall and there was no way I was drawing the face on my own.

Maybe next time.

As for this time, I’m indebted to my friend who had more faith in me than I had in myself. She pushed me out of my comfort zone and forced me to redefine what it means to be an artist. Art is about creation. I loved the experience of creating something entirely unique to me. My plump and perky chicken didn’t look like an exact replica of Jenny’s or the finely, delicate chicken my friend created, but it’s all mine and it’s hanging next to my husband’s rooster on our kitchen wall.

If you’re looking for a way to shake up date night, check out Vine Gogh in Sellwood. Classes are $30 and include a 16 x 20 canvass, all the supplies and instruction. Beer and wine are available for an extra fee and highly recommended by me.

Each year six women from all over the globe are chosen to live in handcrafted cottages on Hedegbrook's 48-acres for two to six weeks. During this time women spend their days, reading, writing, touring the grounds, carving out space for silence and then gathering together in the evenings to share a collective meal and their work. The writers chosen for residency are fully-funded by Hedgebrook.

As women and writers, we can quickly geek out over the idea of a women’s writing retreat, especially one that is geared toward highlighting the voice of women in all walks of life and corners of the planet.

Next month Hedgebrook will open applications for the 2014 season. Follow this link to learn more about applying for residency and Hedgebrook’s many other offerings. If you’re someone who prefers to read another woman’s words rather than crafting your own, you can donate to help fund the nonprofit here.  

Here’s how I’ll be gearing up and chilling out this month:

Sweet Spot Skirts—Who said we have to ride side saddle? At Sweet Spot Skirts owner and bike enthusiast Stephanie Carroll has created the ultimate in stylish, flattering skirts to cover our “em hem” backsides, or sweet spots. These flexible skirts simply wrap over your favorite pair of yoga pants or leggings. They come in a bevy of bright colors and flirty designs like Fly Venus Fly, Red Biker Babe and Float Like a Butterfly. Each skirt is reversible and the perfect accessory for your favorite sports like biking, running, golf, tennis or any other activity you want to dress up. Skirts retail from $59 online here or at your favorite athletic store.

Vamonos Zumba Studios—I know I’m a little late to the Zumba craze, but better late than never right? I credit my nine-year-old for sparking my desire to try the Latin-dance workout. After watching him bounce around our living room to show off his newly acquired Zumba moves for a class performance, I knew I had to break out my kicks and give it a whirl. I credit the insanely talented Jennifer Shaw, owner of Vamonos Zumba Studios, for a killer hour of dancing, sweating and fist-pumping music that leaves me feeling completely spent and equally exhilarated. There’s nothing like it. If you’re in the Portland/Vancouver area, check out the studio on East Reserve. Classes are $6 for drop-in and child care is available onsite for an additional $2. If you’re in another part of the world and haven’t taken a Zumba class yet, find a certified instructor and get shaking here.

Run Pretty Far Phone cases—If you’re like me your smart phone goes on every run, hike or city trek with you. Mine tracks my mileage, elevation and caloric output all while pumping me up with my current playlist of songs. Run Pretty Far is taking your love of the run to the next level with custom cases designed with sayings to boost your output, like “Run Long and Eat More Cake.” Yes! Cases are crafted from hard plastic and will fit most smart phone models including the iPhone 4/4s, iPhone 4 and Samsung Galaxy 3. They retail for $25 online here. Have a special request? Shoot Run Pretty Far an email and they’ll hook you up.

Julie Lampros Skin Care—This month I’m turning (gasp) the big 40, or as my mother-in-law likes to say 39 again. With that new number looming large, I figured it was time for a pick-me-up for my girlish skin. All those hours spent outside in the sun can be diminished with a few brush strokes and makeup techniques from Julie Lampros. As a licensed esthetician, she guides clients of all ages through makeup application, color palates and how to enhance all the features you want highlighted and hide the ones you’re not as in love with. Julie does it all from facials to skin peels and waxing and makeup consultation. Your face will feel fresh and ready to get out there and battle the elements after a session with Julie and you’ll leave feeling confident, beautiful and ready to rock that red dress that’s been hiding in the back of the closet.

Starbucks Cool Lime Refresher—After a long day pounding the pavement with all my new gear me and my shiny new skin are ready to sip something cool and refreshing on the back porch. This month I’ll be drinking a Starbucks Cool Lime Refresher. You’ll never believe the blend of lime, citrus, cucumber and mint infused with a hint of green coffee is only 50 calories. I just might have two. Purchase a handcrafted version at your local Starbucks or pick up a package of 5 individual servings for $5.95 here.

The XX Factor:

Name: Nicole Fink

Age: 31

Occupation: Life Coach

Favorite flower:  Sunflower

Favorite book: The Awakening by Kate Chopin

If you could have lunch with any woman in history who would it be and why? Annie Smith Peck. She was a mountain climber around the turn of the 20^th century, but American society was more interested in what she wore while climbing (pants – gasp!) than her actual accomplishments. She also got into a notorious tiff with another female mountain climber of the era over who climbed the higher mountain. I’d like to find out what made her want to keep doing things outside of the norm. In light of her squabbles, I’d also be interested on what she thought of reality TV.

What did you think you knew ten years ago about being a woman? Oh, my. Ten years ago, I really valued the idea that I was “untamed.” I thought being a woman was about flirting and breaking hearts, and using your 21-year-old charm to get whatever you wanted. But, another word for untamed is unfocused. And another one is hot mess. Ok, that’s two words. 

What are you sure you know now? I’m now sure that the differences between men and women are much smaller than we often choose to recognize. What is different is that as women, we’re socially and culturally allowed to be emotive and discuss things a bit deeper than a football game. Men have it harder than we often give them credit for – after all, women’s lib happened to both genders.  They’re struggling to figure out what their roles are just as much as we are.

What do you hope you’ll know in the future? I hope I’ll know that my best days are never behind me.