Messy Mademoiselle

I have reached the end of something. The end of immaturity. I say this because I can no longer ignore the voice of my intuition. The voice that used to gently whisper “this is going to break your heart,” and “that is an irresponsible choice,” or “you are lying to yourself,” is now face to face with me each time I look in the mirror, lying beside me when I sleep and wake, and sitting passenger seat in my car.

The last few years I was able to avoid her, my intuition, and make those reckless decisions only to feel her rolling her eyes in annoyance of me when it was all over. I would play my music loud enough to drown her out. I would adorn myself with enough makeup and perfume to avoid resembling her. But one last devastating hoorah of a heartbreak brought me to face her.

As I crumbled alone and abandoned, feeling foolish and naive, she looked me in the eyes and took my hands, I opened my heart to her and as I knew she would, she comforted me and told me everything would be okay.

This time I listened to her, invited her to walk alongside me, and promised her I would learn to trust her. Clearly she told me how to make everything right again. Her first guidance was to intentionally surround myself with women who demonstrate a powerful sense of self. I restructured my whole life around this and it was almost effortless to do so.

Taking time to think about just who I enjoy being around I contemplated what types of people make me feel more gratitude, feel more confident, and could make any situation in life feel lightweight and laughable. This is all gained from spending time with and witnessing wise women who are most often, older than I.

Thinking back now, I see how I have always been surrounded by women throughout my childhood and youth. They taught me the intricate lessons you need when beginning a life; They have shown me what is love, and style, and joy, creativity, strength and expression. They have encouraged me and shown up for me and giggled at my errors and cheered for my accomplishments. They are the most comforting of hugs and the best ears you can find.

I have always been curious about people, and women will undoubtedly surprise you.

When I look at a woman the first thing I see is the posture that she carries. I listen to her voice, is it gentle and kind or maybe it is loud and defiant. I notice how she changes the energy in the room, at her best its unifying and supportive and during those difficult times it is a powerful storm that relentlessly wafts a path for her to walk through.

The inevitable physical pain of being a woman, the tumultuous emotions, the vulnerability of such an existence shapes who we are. The women I know demonstrate that beyond our exterior, there is a core of resilience.

And I have noticed that the more womanly she is the more similarities she shares with the little girls I know and love.

The smile she wears is always the same one seen in her childhood photos, where her eyes squint and all of her teeth are on display. Her laugh is contagious especially with her sisters or her best friend. Her desire to dance all night is insatiable and she won’t miss the opportunity to do it dressed up in a sparkly gown or just in her kitchen with pajamas on.

So at 27 years old, I begin taking this role of being a woman seriously. The respect, the care and the boundaries necessary to nurture myself will be my work to learn. My intuition will be my guide. The women I know and our ancestors will be my guides. They have been there all along waiting for me to recognize myself. I wonder what eventually I will be able to give to other women?

To my mother, my aunts, my sisters, my nieces, my friends, my cousins, my roommate, my grandmothers, and my ancestors, thank you for teaching me through your actions and your existence what it means to be a woman.

I believe each of you is a powerful force.

Love, Loren