Author: DanyaWhite

This is not a question I would have asked of myself, but someone asked it of me and I was intrigued, so I answered.  What does it mean to be a woman?  

Eve.  Cleopatra.  Jezebel.  Mary of Magdalene.  A mother.  Iconic Women.  It seems like such a big question to answer.  Does she have kids?  If she wants to have them.  Is she married?  If she chooses to be, or not.  Is she loved?  Let’s hope so.  It’s not just about biology.  XY chromosomes.  Check.  Is that what makes a woman?  A certain age?  You decide.  Hint: It’s not fifteen.  The question I think was meant as “woman” as opposed to “man,” but I also thought of it as “woman” as opposed to “child.” 

I’ve finally reached that age in life where I can’t think of myself any other way, whether I like it or not.  Woman, not child, certainly not man.  Experienced, someone whose seen ups and downs in life and has faced both.  I’d love to say, fearless, but that wouldn’t be true.  Afraid sometimes, but a woman walks forward anyway.  Perhaps a sense of confidence that whatever she faces can be looked at, confronted, examined, and taken care of.

A woman has fallen but she gets up.  She cares for herself and others.  There are times when both are necessary, and maybe not at the same time.  A woman has a tribe, a tribe of other woman, and men, and children who adore her, who respect her, who honor her, and who want to see her succeed.  A tribe who will stand with her when she falls, and reaches out a hand to help her up, a tribe who will hold her up when need be. 

A woman has been hurt, has been broken, has been happy, and angry.  A woman walks her own path to success, even though sometimes the path is lonely, maybe especially when the path is lonely.  Yes, she knows how to ask for help. If you say, “I am a woman.” You have to own that power.  It’s not for the faint of heart.  That’s warrior talk.  A warrior, a woman isn’t always loud.  Sometimes the strongest ones are the quietest.  Shhh.  Listen.  She’s there.  

A woman loves.  She is loved.

What does it mean to you?

Blueberries.  Blue.  Berries.  

Can you see them?

I know.  Me too!

Makes you want to snack on some, right now, doesn’t it?

That color…blueberry.

It’s safe.

It’s rich. 

It hugs me.

It’s home.

Feeling loved with my blueberry pie.

Can you smell it?

I know.  Me too.

Welcome home.

Blueberries.  Boysenberries. Strawberries.  Raspberries.

What’s a boysenberry to my tastebuds anyway?

Home baked goodness.

Feeling loved with my strawberry pie.

Mmmm.

Delicious.

Welcome home.

Raspberry fingers.  Stains all over my white shirt.

It happens every summer.

Feels like home.

Light breezes blowing red and white tablecloths on the picnic tables.

Summer sun.

Picnics

Sticky fingers.

Naps.

Oh, yes.  Naps.

Feels  like home.

 Lazy summer afternoons.

Welcome home.

Invisible beings.

They walk among us.

They laugh.  They cry.

Unseen.

Unheard. 

Unnoticed.

Yearning to be loved.

To be touched.  Noticed.

What’s that like? 

Feeling.

Connected.

Ghosts from another time.

Lives from long ago.

Forgotten.

Can you hear me?  Can you see me? 

Do you know I’m here?

Roaming.

Searching.

Reaching.  Loving.

Cradling. Cuddling.

Caressing his back.

Loving him gently.

Two heart beats.

One calming the other.

Daddy loves you.

Mommy loves you.

Shhh.

Sometimes love is so quiet.

Two people sitting together in silence.

Knowing each other.

Loving each other…

Quietly.

Broken souls.

Broken bones.

Broken spirits.

Picked up.  Carefully being put back together.

Crazy glue.  Liquid cement.  No duct tape.

Talk.

Cry.

Release.

Learn.  Grow. Share.

The plant thrives.

Flowers bloom.

What is lost…is found.

I just read a book in which a variety of people, some very well known and some not so well known, wrote a letter to their sixteen year old selves.  I thought it was a great idea.  Of course the first thing you would do is to tell yourself to tell your parents to buy shares in a company called Apple and a company called Google.  It’s computer and technology stuff. Don’t laugh at the names, or laugh if you want, just make sure to buy the shares.  You will thank me later. After that, the door is wide open.

It is fact that under the best of circumstances, sixteen is a very awkward year for most people.  Hormones are raging.  High school is happening and it is also about the time  you are submitting applications for college and taking what seems like a bazillion tests. Add to that,  you are discovering who you are as an individual for the first time.  That’s not awkward at all.  Many are dealing with situations beyond that that can be extremely taxing.

I still regard sixteen as one of the most difficult years of my life, even after every thing I’ve experienced in this world up to this point.  My mother’s cancer returned and I and my nuclear family had to give up our beautiful home and the majority of our belongings to go and live with my maternal grandmother.  If there is one thing you need to know at this point, it is that she hated(haaaated) me.  She always did, and I was about to move into the lion’s den.

I am eternally grateful to my sixteen year old self and I marvel to this day at the fact that I survived that year.  So, here’s a picture of sixteen year old me and my letter to my sixteen year old self.

Dear DJ(yup, that’s what I was called back then),

The core of the person that you are now is the person that you will always be and that’s a good thing.  Integrity and character are your cornerstones , but not everybody shares those qualities,  so trust your instincts as you always have.  They are spot on every time.   

These are some things that you already know.  This is just a reminder to never forget them:

1) The world is a very large place with a wide variety of people in it.  It is great fun learning all about it.   

2) You are a fighter.  You are a survivor.  Learn to thrive.

3) Trust your gut because some people are users, knowingly and not, and they do not always have your best interest at heart.  Do not give them second or third chances.  Trust me it’s a waste of time.    

4) You are not alone.

5) Being yourself is the best thing you can be.

Learn quickly that there is beauty in gentleness and there is nothing wrong with being different, in fact it’s a strength.  And for goodness sake learn to meditate.  It’s miraculous…and don’t forget to tell your parents to buy those shares.  

P.S. I think you owe your Spanish teacher fifty cents, not because you took the candy bar, but because the candy bars were your responsibility, and yes of course we know now who did take it.

With great love and great respect,

Danya

Are you doing that end of year, New Year reminiscing thing?  I am, but this time I’m going way back.  I’m thinking about defining moments that happened when I was seven and eight and twelve.  It was a whole bathing suit thing.  I’ll tell you about it later. Sometimes you have to look back to move forward, to expand your horizons.

What do pink tutus and purple galoshes have in common or argyle socks and camouflage pants for that matter?  For you GQers that second one is totally a look trust me.  A child wouldn’t hesitate to wear those items together.  Adults not so much.  It’s about freedom of expression, expanding your ideas of what it means to be dressed appropriately or in fashion.  It’s about adding to our repertoire of ideas of who we are and what we want to be.    

Remember that apartment that you lived in that was a total dump or that roommate you had who probably would have made it to someone’s psychological watch list.  It was an interesting time.  It even makes for a great story at a party but you don’t want to repeat the experience, just the story.  Things change.  Life’s circumstances change and yet we tend to do the same things day in and day out.  Some people grow older but they might not ever grow.

Back then life was an adventure.  There was always something to look forward to, a new home, a new car, a better job.  We weren’t worried about settling into a comfortable life because there were too many things that we wanted to do, things that needed changing. 

I used to get in trouble for coloring outside the lines and for coloring at perpendicular angles on the same object.  I would start coloring up and down and then I would get tired of coloring in that direction so I would turn the picture to the side and color in a different direction on the same object.  Ms. Johnson, yes I still remember her name, didn’t appreciate my artistic sensibilities.  My pictures were still awesome, at least to me anyway.  I respected my temperament.  I allowed my third grade self to be fully me.  I didn’t know there was any other way.  Allow your adult self to be fully you.  Remember what it’s like to not know any other way. Explore your inner landscape. 

  Do you want to try something new?  Something different?  Something more, or maybe even something less?  Could be an opportunity for black velvet pants and cowboy boots, just sayin.’  Now is not the time to be afraid of being something nobody else has seen. 

  As adults we get conditioned to blend in and not stand out. Everybody has heard the phrase, “don’t upset the apple cart.” We get conditioned to settle into sameness.  Feel free to paint the bathroom walls red. Color outside the lines in whatever direction you choose

To quote George Lucas, you know that guy who made that movie.  I can’t quite think of the name of it right now.

    “Don’t listen to your peers.  Don’t listen to your parents.  Only listen to yourself. That’s where you’ll find your truth.”

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