Be very afraid but also very angry. And sorry. Remember to apologize.
Ask everyone if they need anything.
Be pretty. But not too pretty. Approachably pretty. Not too much.
Smile and wave at your red hat neighbor with the pedophile eyebrows.
Does anyone need anything?
Enjoy sex, but not too much. Just enough. But don’t get pregnant. Birth control is your job, but also a problem. It makes you crazy or less pretty or just very sad. And something about eugenics.
Make money, but not too much. Or make lots, but don’t talk about it.
Worry. About your body, your outfit, your hair. Worry that maybe you’ve offended someone. Worry that your pain is not interesting, or your need is not worthy. Worry for yourself and for everyone else.
Keep your earned madness in your purse, or a pocket if you can find one. Like a mint or a worry stone, something to roll around on your tongue or in your hand when things start to boil over.
Again, can I get anything for anyone?
Cry, but only on your own time. Let it out. Don’t let them see you cry.
Vote.
Teach your girls, your ladies-in-training, to be tough and smart, confident and competent. But don’t let them take the bus alone and also teach them about mace and knives and bitch faces for all occasions.
Get the job, but don’t get hurt. And don’t give them the wrong idea.
Swallow your pride, ambition, bile, and rage. In the morning, with your anti-depressants and anti-anxiety meds. Just swallow everything. And smile. Smile!
Have a complicated relationship with your thighs or your nose, your eyes or your laugh. Whatever they tell you to hate, you must commit to like. Through the hate.
Inhale the art of women. Read all the ladies’ books, about ladies. Maybe The Firebrand and the First Lady by Patricia Bell-Scott, or Jami Attenberg’s Saint Maizie. Or something older, like Zora Neale Hurston or Virginia Woolf. Read Kate Manne, Rebecca Traister, and Soraya Chemaly. Listen to the ladies, from Billie to Beyoncé. Close your eyes and nourish the soul with Hildegard von Bingen or Cécile Chaminade. Feast your eyes on lady art. Spend time with Judith Leyster, Lee Krasner, and Sally Mann. Process the rage with ladies.
Make things. Take your rage and your fear, your beautiful broken heart, and weave it into things that we can fondle with our fingers, put into our mouths, hang on our walls, and shout from the windows.
Eat great hunks of bread, slathered with purple jam made by your oldest female relative. Have a cocktail or quit drinking, whichever will raise the most eyebrows and stir revolution in your soul. Eat the bones, like the king himself, or go all vegan in their pearl-clutching faces. Whatever you want, honey, we’re taking this ship down.
Burn it all down. Burn it to the ground so we can build it up again. Our grandmothers were marching, after they made the jam. Our mothers were mad. We’re still marching. Let’s march right up to the big house and burn it all down.
Did I just say that out loud? Oh dear, I’ve forgotten my training. I’m so sorry, I’ll have a spritz and a salad, please. Does anyone need anything?
Vote.
Dropping some quality tweets this week:
Happy summer!
Lisa
Loved this! You know what I had often wished- either senior year of high school or freshman year of college, all 18 year olds must also take a course on voting. Yes, they have Civics- but I mean a very specific course that tells them 1.) Voting specific to where you live, city, county, state, etc. 2.) The various ways they can vote and register to vote( absentee, mail in, etc) 3.) Where to find a candidate’s stance and voting record on various issues 4.) how to get an amendment on a ballot, etc. I think in Civics courses it gets lost how important it really is and how to actually be a part of the process. I think many adults need refresher courses as well, and if they bother to vote, sometimes they forget how it all works. Also, more employers need to provide a time ( day off, leave early, etc) to let people vote as well.