Let me clarify. This is not a perverted rant from an saggy-testicled male poet. This is a rant from one woman to another.
This afternoon on my way to a photoshoot to update my online identity, I made a quick phone call.
This essentially makes me vintage. As in; I prefer a phone call to a text or any other kind of message.
I called a young lady with whom I work, and consider a pal. She’s younger than me, educated, capable, and way more in touch with how the world works. I am that friend to my older friends, and so it goes.
At one time, I was the younger-more-in-touch-with-reality-and-technology friends. I considered myself fortunate to be present with these ladies. I was deeply grateful to them for sharing their experience and their well-intentioned advice. I learned about becoming the woman I always wanted to be; professional, funny, sensual, and confident. Thanks to these older women I learned to live my life intentionally.
I still need women in my life who have been-there-done-that, and know how to order a proper cocktail in order to tell their story effectively. I also find myself now admiring the younger women in my circles for their enthusiasm, unrestrained hopes and dreams and even their naivety.
To all of the young women out there who are now just exploring their identity as grown-up, professional, artist, or mother, we need you. We need your voice, your ideas, and your participation in all parts of life. You are valuable and loved. You’re part of a community of women, ever-evolving, ever-aging, and always, always, always in need of one another.