Grrrrrrrrrrrrrl Power

You’re gonna have to bear with me on this one.  A few thoughts going on.  They may or may not make sense together.  Maybe just in my mind. 

Zumba has been going fabulously!  I’ve noticed things like my pants falling off whilst crossing the street and being able to gyrate for an hour without having an asthma attack.  Steps forward baby!!  Jocelyn, my cheerleader/Hooters girl on steroids instructor is preggers so she’s dropped my Monday night class.  NJ, the Maori warrior has picked it up, and it has become a Hip Hop Hustle class instead.  Holy shite.  Not sure if there’s any hip left in this hustle.  Not since I was 12 at least.  The music, the dancing, the feeling…brings me back to the old Armory days of college.  Here’s where I digress a bit…

Ladies Night was on Tuesdays.  Women drank free in the back room until 11 o’ clock.  Dudes were not allowed back there until then.  We would each have our own pitchers to drink out of, and would definitely make use of this “special”.  Much beer can be consumed if you put your mind to it.  And if you’re a broke college student.  At 11:00 exactly the guys were allowed into the back bar.  Thinking about it now makes me nauseous.  A horde of college guys set loose upon some very inebriated college women.  Yes, rape culture at its finest.  *heave * 

I would always be there with my rugby chicas.  We were tight.  So much so that most guys were very intimidated by us.  We took care of each other.  That’s why I never thought of danger when I was with them.  I never saw how skeevy this whole “Ladies Night” thing was.  (Maybe a little, but I was too drunk to really care.)  We gave any guy who would dare approach, or date one of us, an extremely hard time to see if he was quality.  Truly, we were mean.  One night, at a party, one of my friends was “hooking up” with Ken, from the men’s team.  We might have gone in to the room a few too many times, just making sure she was consenting to each new phase of… intimacy.  Cock blocks?  Yes, yes we were.  But did our friend care?  Of course not.  She would have done the same if it had been one of us.  Tight.   

I think of the love we had for one another.  Mossman, Kimmy, Amy, Patience, Holly, AJ, Pepe, Lips…  These were my girls!  My sisters.  They were so proud to be the only straight rugby team in Colorado.  Yet, they didn’t even bat an eye when I came out to them.  Then, they were just proud of me. 

What happens to that kind of girl power once we get older?  I think of KJ’s recent post about the bonds of motherhood.  How we should all be supporting one another, especially in the toughest of times.  Instead, we give each other disapproving looks and tsk tsks.  Thinking of all the ways we could do it better.

A few months ago I was standing outside in front of my house.  A car drove by with a woman screaming in the passenger seat.  As she was yelling I saw the driver, a man, with his arm in front of her, restraining her.  I herded Maya into the house and told Rebeca what I had just witnessed.  And then, of course, I jumped into my car and drove off in the direction they were headed.  I found the car right away at a house up the street.  I drove by twice, making sure the woman was “ok”.  She was still in the car, but he was out in the yard pacing around and smoking.  I made sure he saw me and I drove back home.  I’m nosy as hell, but I also give a shit. 

There was once a time, for many of us, where when we were with our friends, we were loved.  Period.  When Kimmy broke her boyfriend’s nose did we shake our heads in disapproval?  Of course not.  Did he deserve it?  Well…   When Amy’s bf cheated on her, we let her know right away.  When she decided to stay with him, we supported her but made sure (subtly of course) that he always knew that he was shit in our eyes. 

How many friends do you have like that now?  If you’re lucky you have at least a handful.  I am one of the lucky ones.  I have a few very close friends who know me.  All the good and all the ugly.  They love me.  When I fucked up with Rebeca a few years back, I wasn’t scared of their reactions.  I knew they would be surprised, but supportive.  They all responded somewhat like this, “You stupid bitch, now how are you going to fix this?  You need me to watch your kid so you two can go out?”  That is love. 

Where am I going with all of this? 

When I’m at Zumba, I feel some of that sisterhood.  We’re all there for a common goal.  We support one another through the pain, the sweat and sometimes the near death experiences.  We want similar things.  To be stronger, braver, more healthy.  That’s part of the reason why I go.  To feel all of those things.  After NJ’s class I feel powerful and energized.  After Jocelyn’s, I feel beautiful.  And I love that I’m sharing this with all of those other women. 

Is this bond as strong as the ones I felt in my early twenties?  Definitely not, but it’s nice to know it can still exist.  Sisterhood IS powerful.  

“There’s a special place in hell for women who don’t help other women.”

-Madeline Albright