“To girls everywhere, I am with you”

I wrote something for today but then I read the letter.

If you don’t know what letter I’m talking about then you haven’t been paying attention. You must pay attention.

“To girls everywhere, I am with you”

Even now. Even after all of it. Even after reading the letter to a courtroom of a judge, jury, and her rapist, she is with us.

This could be you.
Your daughter.
Your partner.
Your friend.
It could be any of us.

The letter is all you need read today. It is powerful. It is moving. It is uncomfortable. It is revealing. It is pain spelled out in remembrances and thoughts of the future.

holding handsYou must pay attention.

“To girls everywhere, I am with you”

To the young woman from Stanford and to all women, especially the ones who never got a chance to stand up against those who assaulted them, I stand with you. I cry with you. I fight with you.



From BuzzFeed

Here Is The Powerful Letter The Stanford Victim Read Aloud To Her Attacker

A former Stanford swimmer who sexually assaulted an unconscious woman was sentenced to six months in jail because a longer sentence would have “a severe impact on him,” according to a judge. At his sentencing Thursday, his victim read him a letter describing the “severe impact” the assault had on her.

Read the letter HERE

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Filed under Feminism, Sexism, and Equality, Violence Against Women

Baptize me in your cacophonous invocation

It’s Friday morning. The skies opened up this morning with sunshine and the seas are reflected from one side of the horizon to the other. Blue. Well, bluish. OK, it’s a bit hazy. And I am thousands of miles from the nearest sea. But the roofers are here and if you are a homeowner in need of a roof repair you understand the religious experience that is a contractor who actually shows up with “his guys”.

I am saved.

Three hours in and I am so over it.

The noise, noise, noise, NOISE!

Pounding. Dragging. Dropping. Banging. I get it! The roof was broken and it must be torn down to the foundation before it can be rebuilt. And the rebuilding won’t come easy or without a price

I so wish I were speaking metaphorically.

I surrender. Baptize me in your cacophonous invocation.

Really, what choice do I have? I did, in fact, ask for this. My insurance company did, in fact, demand it. Homeownership is a privilege that comes with a price. (she says as she writes the huge check)

Yes, I surrender to the lords of city codes and to the gods of hail and to the spirits of poorly made shingles sold by companies who are protected by liability time limits.

Yes, I surrender. I’d surrender out loud if I thought anyone could hear me over the incessant (albeit necessary) banging.

ShinglesCan you hear me now?

I’m going to pour myself another cup of caffeine.
I’m going to crank up my Hamilton playlist.
I’m going to pop a few Advil (leaving the Oxycodone in the bottle—something to write about on another day, a quieter day)
I’m going to visualize an intact roof that won’t leave me questioning my atheism during a storm.
I’m going to write…something…perhaps something ridiculous.
I’m not going to throw away my shot. (I love you if you got this)

Aaaaand now the door I bought doesn’t fit…

Check, please!

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Filed under Health and Wellness, Writing and Reading

Centered and Sane on Mother’s Day

Me and Mama at the vineyard near Azza, Israel. 1974

Me and Mama at the vineyard near Azza, Israel. 1974

Those who know me well (and perhaps those who have only been within earshot when I am ranting) know I loathe almost all the commercialized holidays. Yes, even Mother’s Day.

I love mothers.
I love my own mother.
I love being a mother.
Mother’s Day cards? Not so much.
I am grateful for the amazing mothers and fathers in my circle of friends and family. They keep me centered and sane. They keep me honest.

We had brunch with one of these special families today and we, along with my lovely mother, watched our kids play and we drank margaritas and we laughed. We laughed about then times when we truly failed at parenting and we reminded each other how awesome we were (and are) most of the time. Hell yeah.

Motherhood doesn’t need a special day, but mothers certainly need special people in their lives.

So here I am, the Mother’s Day cynic, wishing you a very happy Mother’s Day.

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Filed under Feminist Parenting, Marriage and Friendship