Black Bra Wisdom: Decide what to be, and go be it

Maybe the heat and humidity are wearing on me; simply taking the dog out to do his business is oppressive. Maybe it’s the knowledge that summer vacation is almost at an end; I’m one of those weird parents who actually LIKES having my kids around. Maybe it’s the nagging pain resulting from being consistent about going to the gym the past couple of weeks (attagirl, Pam). Maybe it’s the combination of many things. Whatever it is, I haven’t been quite myself the past few days.

Matter of fact, on Sunday I felt downright depressed. My boys were away, there were bills to pay and no money to pay them, and my to-do list seemed to be growing longer instead of shorter, regardless of how many frogs I ate.

Then I looked at this week’s list more closely and saw that I was scheduled to write a blog post called Black Bra Wisdom. “I have no such wisdom to share,” I confided to Lindy and Megan. “I feel old and frumpy and overwhelmed, not sleek and sexy and sophisticated.” But they didn’t offer to let me off the hook. Those young whippersnappers. So here goes.

Decide what to be and go be it.

I didn’t come up with that line. It’s from a song by the Avett Brothers (the music video appears at the end of this post). But I wish I had, because it succinctly summarizes my philosophy of life.

When I was seven years old, I decided I wanted to be a piano teacher when I grew up and I never let anything stand in my way. I figured out the means to overcome every obstacle that appeared in my path and worked relentlessly until I had achieved my goal of receiving a master’s degree in piano performance and piano pedagogy; within three years, I built a studio of over fifty piano students.

I’ll never understand exactly what happened after that. But gradually over a period of time - as I struggled in an abusive marriage, had my business uprooted repeatedly, and dealt with the challenges of raising children and home schooling them - I lost myself. I threw my heart and soul into taking care of my growing family, and got swallowed whole in the process.

There came a time when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. ~Anais Nin

It took me twenty years to come to this realization, then I asked for a divorce. It was messy and complicated, but at last I was free. The problem was I no longer knew who I was. And my self-confidence was shattered. All I knew how to do was to be a mom and teach piano, but since I had to parent almost single handedly and earn a living, those were good things. Slowly, slowly, I began to piece myself back together.

Unfortunately, however, I was also under the illusion that I needed to be a part of a couple to be complete. Happily ever after, right? So I spent years playing the online dating game, jumping from relationship to relationship, morphing myself in chameleon-like fashion into whomever the flavor of the month - or year, or years - happened to need.

Finally, after a broken engagement and another broken heart, something clicked. Yes, there have been a couple of short-term things since then, but my learning curve is improving. And during every stint as a truly single woman – no matter how brief - I discovered unfulfilled desires. I chose to run with them. And I was reminded of the pleasure of spending a Saturday night having fun with girlfriends.

Honestly? Most men can’t compete with the amazing women I know.

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as chidren do. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others. ~Marianne Williamson, from A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of A Course in Miracles

Not counting a couple of nights on the town, I have been single for four months now. It wasn’t easy at first. But once I got past the fear of being home alone on a Friday or Saturday night, I was all right. As a matter of fact, I am rather starting to like it.

Mom. Daughter. Sister. Friend. Dog lover. Piano teacher. Blogger. Novelist. Reader. Jewelry designer. Artist. Seamstress. Cook. Baker. 

I am all this, and so much more. I discover new things about myself, find new roads to wander, every day. It is exhausting. It is exhilarating. It is real. For the first time in a long time, I am really living.

And most days I’m wearing a black bra while I’m doing it.

Author: Pam Asberry
Website: http://pamasberry.blogspot.com
Facebook: http://facebook.com/pamasberryfanpage
Twitter: http://twitter.com/pamasberry

Black Bra Wisdom: The Old Boys Club

I would start with “this one’s for the ladies,” but frankly I think the men can always learn a lot from anything that’s “for the ladies.” So this is for every reader we have of every age and gender, but it is going to be addressed to the ladies.

Alright, ladies, listen up! You know how for years we’ve been grumbling about The Old Boys Club? As a woman, it’s a bit aggravating (threatening? disheartening?) to hear about male colleagues going out with each other to play golf, grab a beer or even hit a strip club – oh, yes, this happens, and not just in movies – building tight relationships with each other that lead to close partnerships at work that in turn lead to growth opportunities, promotions and the like.  Well, the time to stop the grumbling is now! 

It’s our turn.

Before I explain, let me ask: Is it supposed to be The Old Boys Club as in “a club full of old boys”? Or is it The Old Boy’s Club as in “there’s some old guy who started this club”? Or perhaps it’s The Old Boys’ Club… but this even leaves room for interpretation. Is it the club that’s old or the boys in the club who are aged? No matter how you look at it, though, it’s old. Outdated. Going the way of the dinosaurs.

The new club is for us. I refer to it as The Soccer Mom Alliance. Before anyone becomes offended, of course this club is not limited to mothers or married women. I only temporarily named the club The Soccer Mom Alliance because the power of us hit me when my fellow soccer moms (bear in mind, my soccer child is 3 years old) started to reach out to each other to hook up via LinkedIn and to get together for a ladies' night. If you would prefer, we could call it simply The Alliance. Or anything else, really. Thoughts? Suggestions?

Here’s the deal. Up until late-ish in the 20^th century, men held the cards. For years, the majority of women either worked as homemakers, which restricted their sphere of influence due to the technological limitations of the times, or worked outside the home within a very limited subset of roles. Men’s roles allowed more freedom and visibility, thus providing them the opportunity to establish that Old Boys Club in the ways now familiar to us all.

Recent times have provided us the foundation for the new order, our new Alliance:

• A waning of the limitations on women in the workplace
• Reinvigorated respect for the challenging work homemakers manage
• Ever-more extracurricular activities in which children of ever-widening ages participate, with ever-greater parental attendance
• Social media

In other words, we women are together more than ever, often in groups, with ever-widening circles of influence. And now, thanks to social media, a tool that reinforces and breathes life into our natural inclination to interact and socialize, our time has come. We can reach out to one another 24/7: for laughs, for fun, for a check-in, for an ear or a shoulder… and yes, for professional support.

Two future Alliance members, already supporting each other.

Professional support… Hm. No, that’s too wishy-washy, too old-school, too women-in-the-age-of-the-Old-Boys-Club and not Alliance enough. How’s this:  To build and reinforce our professional caché, to leverage an expansive advisory network, to impart our own expertise, and to establish and broaden our professional empires. 

There. That’s better.

How do we start? Well, there is one thing crucial thing we can learn from the boys: Ask.  Ask to connect – on Facebook, on Twitter, on LinkedIn, via email, for a ladies’ night, for coffee…  And yes, ask for the opportunity to learn about what we can offer each other, personally and professionally. There’s power in asking, power in sharing and amazing power in building those bonds. What is it they say in those lottery commercials? You can’t win if you don’t play?

Sure, we might get No for an answer. But we won’t get to Yes if we don’t ask.

So, what do you think we should call this Alliance?

Friday Show & Tell

Megan - Roswell, Georgia

You know how you think you've taken the perfect photo? And then you know how something can just throw that photo all wonky? I love this picture of my friend's little girl, particularly the flower (weed?) tucked behind her ear. But the photo is just a smidge off. Three words: Empty. Plastic. Bottle. Ah well. Babies and their toys.

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Pam - Dacula, Georgia

My brother Greg and me, August 1981

My brother Jim, born two years after me, died in an auto accident on July 18, 1981, the day before my brother Greg's 18th birthday. July 19th was also my maternal grandmother's birthday; she and Greg are gone now, too. And my dad told me yesterday that his father passed away on July 20, 1961.
That's a lot of sadness packed into three days.

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Lindy - Decatur, Georgia

If you need a plumber, don't go gettin' any ideas.

 This is how I spent an hour this week - replacing my kitchen faucet. A little black bra wisdom ladies: if you don't have power tools or if you have them yet don't know how to use them - LEARN!

You silly men, if you are asking why I needed a screw gun to replace my kitchen faucet, then you obviously don't know what you're doing. Happy Friday!