Hiding From Wonder Woman
I thought the women in my life were strong. With a capital S.
I’ve grown up. I now realize they were weak. Albeit, still amazing. BUT, they were hiding.
The women in my life hid behind their men. They hid behind convention. They hid behind their faith. They hid behind the fear of all that could go wrong. They hid behind the sheer act of existing.
And they taught me to do the same.
I spent years of my life in hiding. Not like witness protection hiding, where you are hiding because you are part of something bigger than yourself, but the kind of hiding where you’re fine never leaving a mark. Never. Leaving. A. Mark. (Let that sink in for a minute.)
When I was a little girl, I had a particularly strong affection for Wonder Woman and Princess Leia. These were strong women but despite all my desires to the contrary, they weren’t real. Wonder Woman and Princess Leia were fantasies — not something of this world. As much as I wanted to be like these feminine icons, I was taught they were nothing more than fodder for dress-up. They were who I could be when I was playing pretend. But for the real world – it was required I be white-soled sneakers.
On the gym floor of life, I would never leave a mark.
Now, with nearly half of my life behind me, I realize I’ve been wrong.
Wonder Woman and Princess Leia were the physical manifestations of the dreams of the collective 1970s American girlhood. Who didn’t want to fly an invisible plane? Who didn’t want to be a SPACE PRINCESS?
But more importantly, who didn’t want to be significant somehow, in something that is right or good, or beautiful?
Girls of the 1970s realized maybe there was more. Maybe we could have actual dreams and not be outcasts for dreaming against the grain. So many of us saw, out of the corners of our eyes, that spark of divinity that exists in each of our cores — which proves we shouldn’t hide the beautiful creations we are.
It took me a while, but I’ve finally caught up. I can wind my hair in thick buns over each ear and fight a good fight. I can be Wonder Woman, grab my golden lasso and command great truth. To emulate my heroes does not mean I’m playing at life. It means I’m living it. Living it with the wind in my hair, the sun on my face — and candor about how I want to fit into this beautiful and sometimes confounding universe.
Yes, the women in my life hid behind their men when they should have been standing beside them. They hid behind convention when they should have been re-writing the rules. They hid behind their faith when God has never asked anyone to be less than themselves. They hid behind the fear of all that could go wrong when risk brings the reward of an authentic life.
I’ve written a new story for myself. And I’ve written it with a sharpie marker for everyone to see. I hid from my internal Wonder Woman for far too long and I am definitely a wonder.