I made this jumpsuit imagining a sexy, silky, flowy outfit that would turn heads when I entered the room. But....it came out a bit more churchish than anticipated. Still I almost like the fit—a little big in the clavicle area. I’m getting there.

The poem I am learning from (I’m changing my terminology to learning rather than memorizing because I am learning from the poems, it just happens to be my favorite method of learning—to memorize) is about truth telling. It is causing me to think about what I keep silent about and how to put what I’m feeling into words. I’m starting now. I am going to put something I’m feeling uncomfortable about into words. At least 3 times a week until the poem is memorized. 

Ok. Here goes: my husband does a video blog almost weekly with a University of Pennsylvania professor. They talk about globalization.  This week the topic was “cultural change through the prism of reaction to rosanne Barr.” Pretty heady huh? Anyway I’m putzing around my kitchen and I hear Frank say “...62 year old grotesquely overweight post-menopausal woman who 55 years ago would have been viewed with alarm by a mother with young children...” 

First of all it isn’t 55 years ago, second of all wtf with the comment about being viewed by a young woman with children? What does that even mean? How does it make me feel? I literally felt electric impulses on my skull. Synapsis on my brain. Soooooo mad. I say something to him, he says—quit yelling at me, leave me alone, something to that effect...  

...and now it’s the next day and it is changing. I’m speaking my truth. I am a 61 year old post-menopausal woman and I will not be shamed about my age, my grey hair, my wrinkles, any of it. No more cowing down. One step too far.