I started to write something very specific for this week. I was going to write a little more about grief. And then, I was going to write about some of the bat sh*t stuff that’s been going on around these parts. And then, yesterday happened. And it was so magical that I don’t want to ruin it by writing a post that is anything but a tribute.
For the last several years, I’ve been thinking about how I want to help young women in the male-dominated industry that is my professional life. Two years ago, I started pitching various industry leaders, in earnest, to support me in this adventure. I wish I could tell you that I had so much interest that I couldn’t choose THE person or company who would help me bring my vision to life.
That was not the case. It was a struggle, for reasons I understand and for reasons that will always mystify me. I felt really discouraged at times. Not quite to the point of giving up, but as close as I get. And to know me is to know that I’m determined as hell as a person, generally speaking.
I just kept telling myself that the cause, the goal, was/is bigger than me and my ego and my witty feelings (or big, in this case). That I had to look beyond my bruised ego and disappointments to understand that if I was going to make this happen, it might just take everything I have.
Finally, traction. Finally, the right people who decided that we were worth the energy and effort. That I was.
It was humbling, but also, the very best experience. Do you want to know why? Because I knew that this would be part of the story of how the program came to pass. I knew that when I stood in front of the room and told young women that they must have grit and perseverance and dedication to survive and more than that, to thrive, I would mean it. I knew that there was something deliciously ironic in all of it being so hard. Also, I knew it would taste a million times sweeter because it was so challenging for me.
And still, the entirety of the thing literally blew me away. I can’t identify the parts and pieces that were the most special. Even if I could, I don’t think I’d want to, because that would take away from all of it. And really, it was all the things together. It was the collective whole that gave me all the feels.
Industry veterans sat at tables and stood in the front of rooms and told brilliant young minds that while the path is difficult at times, it is worth it. They shared personal stories and strategies and most of them made themselves incredibly vulnerable with the notion that it is in those raw moments where true connection is made. When we strip ourselves bare and allow people to see our core, there is similarity that may be difficult to see on the surface. Shared likes and loves and heartache and fears.
I’m not sure there is anything remarkable about conceptualizing an event and then, having to fight for it. Except that the world we are in right now, given the state of this country, there is something truly fantastic about finding a way, against the odds.
And there were odds. For each and every supporter, there was a naysayer. A dream killer. An anti. And perhaps even worse than the vocal negativity, were the individuals who didn’t seem to care at all. Sure, they weren’t trying to kill the program, but they also weren’t doing anything to help it be breathed into life. Apathetic robots. And my guts ache when I share that those people were primarily women.
And I know, and history has also taught me, that just because you are a woman does not mean you are interested in working towards equality for women. It doesn’t even mean that you truly understand that inequity exists. Well, I find that bit hard to believe, and still, there are women who, at a minimum, put on a good show. They make you think that they don’t see all the ways in which we still have to struggle.
I know I don’t have to share this, but I think it’s important, so I will. The event I dreamed about was not about being anti-man. Not by a long shot. In fact, I shared with the group that ALL of the individuals who have helped me get anywhere in my career have been men. And the people who have wounded me so egregiously, all women. And the event I dreamed about was not a place for a collective cry. The event I dreamed about was a space filled with love and support and compassion and strength. So. Much. Courage.
And the end result was so much more than I could have hoped for. It was so next level gorgeous. Were there a few glitches? Sure. Always. I’d be lying if I said no. Were those incidents apparent to anyone other than me? No, I don’t think so, and if they were, they were absolutely not impactful in any way that matters.
But for me? Tiny lessons. Little bursts of knowledge. Room to grow. An acknowledgment that things can always improve, always. There is always space to work on something.
Shit feels pretty hopeless in a lot of areas right now. I also recognize my privilege as I put these words on paper. And still, I want to tell everyone not to give up. To just keep trying. To love each other. To want more for others than we want for ourselves but then, also, to believe in ourselves religiously and relentlessly and without pause. I want to tell everyone that sometimes it takes a decade to do something that feels yummy and intuitive and non-controversial. I want to tell everyone that the best things in life come with struggle and sometimes, the only thing that we can do is sit in the discomfort and wait to identify a better opportunity. I want to tell everyone that sometimes, all we have is hope and love and that has to be enough.
It just has to….
X
L.
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