I’ve been accused of acting like an old lady.
This was only after I’d gone (what seemed prematurely) through my own mid-life crisis…in my 30’s.
You see, mine has been a full life; a career where I’ve seen more trauma, death and mystery than any binge episode of the most popular television series, a made-for-tv-movies childhood and a plethora of mischief with lovely men.
There are few things I feel that I yet need to do. The very saying, bucket list, makes me cringe. What a bunch of pretentious, assuming crappola. Every day should be your bucket list, without assuming you have time to carefully plan a list.
What I’ve come to understand at this stage is that little old ladies are often zenned out in their own little worlds of comfort; cooking, crafting, singing, baking, volunteering, doting on their children and watching Hallmark movies. They live for gentle moments of comfort.
This reality hit me when I was speaking to some younger women at work who had inquired about my career. It’s been a wonderful winding road that served my role as a mother very well. But there’s been an unusual amount of exposure to trauma, violence, and death. Which entitles me to take comfort in ‘little old lady things’, like baking.
Women who like to live their lives amidst creating a comfortable, quiet home life are sometimes the toughest broads on earth. Like me.
We have been given the misnomer of the weaker sex all the while proving that really we are the strongest. This is despite gender inequality, violence, sexual abuse and economic discrimination. It is the women who are strong enough to offer our families the unrecognized emotional work required to create the sanctuary of home where we recharge with love and kindness.
Never underestimate the power of little old ladies, especially the ones who arrived at old-ladyhood prematurely. Underneath the homemade cookies and blankets, we are fierce.