Tuesday, April 29, 2014


I wish I understood them.  

I wish I could reason with them, but instead, I clearly speak another language.  

I describe myself as a guy with boobs.  I watch sports and drink beer.  I am quick tempered, you have to let me blow up and then it is done. I HATE wearing dresses, I hate buying them even more.  I bought 2 purses this week and that was newsworthy.  (Although, purely out of necessity - one for a more formal dinner, when my FF was on shift and I did not have access to his pockets for lip gloss, license, keys and ATM card.  It is barely larger than my phone.  The other purse was his idea while we snuck away to the mall for an hour - to keep my epi pen.  Picky, picky!)  Heels and make up are fine, but I am not doing my hair and I am wearing jeans.  I have no patience for pettiness and have always fought for girls and women to be treated as equals.  My boys had baby dolls and my girls have trucks.  There is nothing you can or cannot do based on the gender you were born with.  Follow your dreams and your heart.  I have tried to instill that into my kids, both at school and at home.  

But that does not make me a fan of women.

We do not raise each other up, we tear each other up.  We are fearful and jealous.  We are afraid to tap into our own confidence and build ourselves and those around us up from there.  Trying something new is not always on our radar, the fear of failure holds us back. When I hear women worried about females in the firehouse, I want to scream at the top of my lungs, "WHAT ABOUT YOUR FIREFIGHTER?  WHY NOT BE PISSED AT HIM FOR NOT SAYING 'I'M MARRIED.  LEAVE ME ALONE!' " It takes two to tango.  If you are worried about your FF, your marriage has issues bigger than a female FF.  We, as women, do not like to see other women surpass us.  Instead of using that as incentive to strive for our goals, we pull down the mountain that she built and then climbed, in spite of everyone telling her she'll never do it - brick, by brick.  We as women fear being compared and deemed inadequate.  Our breasts are too small, our waistlines too big.  We are not blonde enough or tall enough or pretty enough.  Our house is not clean enough.  We don't juggle it all - work, kids, marriage, love - with as much grace and style as our neighbor.  We, for whatever reason, are in a CONSTANT state of competition with each other.  

But, it hit a whole new low yesterday and my blood boiled.  I was not part of it, I was not privy to it.  Instead it was 2nd hand gossip.  So, I cannot quote it.  BUT, I can tell you that even the smallest portion of it was true, it was so far out of line, that I cannot begin to excuse such behavior.  

Playing on a fire wive's fear of the unmentionable to get them to side with you. 

Telling them they would be alone when their world was crumbling down.

I acknowledge, I was not there.  But, I cannot image the low that these women must have felt that such a thing would be said or even alluded to.  

It makes me want to puke and it breaks my heart, all at the same time.

Why are we not building each other up?

Why are we not celebrating the victories - both large and small?

Why are we not teaching our daughters that women support, where girls compete?

We are so hard on the guys; why are we not hard on our own?  

Step up.  

Build up.  Build bridge and mountains and climb to the top.  The view is beautiful!

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