Double U-O-M-A-N

Brent is home after a weekend-long hunting trip to the far recesses of the Oklahoma panhandle. I expected to be so much closer to driven insane here all by myself, but I wasn’t. I can’t say every single moment was delightful beyond measure, but I also can’t discount the sense of humor each of my boys has. I think I wet myself laughing at least twice. Bladder-control has become a thing of the past for now.

So... I’ve been participating in a small group reviewing a study written about the book of Esther in the Bible. The history is pretty interesting… focusing on the selection of a new queen by King Xerxes of Persia. We’re talking – a mid-400’s BC “Bachelor” selection-process after the king deposes his queen, Vashti. That part is engaging enough even though I truly can't watch the “reality show” – reality used loosely.

So far, the author has concentrated on the selection process itself. And when I say it was like an ancient-day season of “The Bachelor” – I’m putting it mildly. These young, virgin women were forced to leave their mothers and fathers, and perhaps those to whom they were betrothed. I’d imagine the confirmation of their virginity was an invasive and humiliating process. Think: Memoirs of a Geisha… the book… not the crap movie. They were given about a year of lavish “beauty treatments”, and were later presented to the king. But there is no indication a rose-ceremony was involved [darn], that there was any narrowing the number of contestants over time, or that any of the girls were allowed to visit their families. Long story short, King Xerxes chooses an unlikely, Jewish, young lady, Esther… and the story continues from there.

More specifically, at the center of the selection process is the idea that no matter the day-in-age, it is “tough to be a woman” in a sea of other women. Just as these women at the time were competing against each other to win the throne, women everywhere today seemingly compete or compare themselves against each other for one reason or another. This would explain the rivalry, threat and insecurity around prettier, more fit, more successful women all around us. But… the issue I’m having with the idea is… I’m not so threatened by other women. I love – and in fact, TREASURE – what other women add to my life. Maybe I’m fixating on the wrong point. But, I just think the club I’m in is FANTASTIC.

I’ve known catty, mean girls. Sure, I’ve had a terribly horrible boss. And aside from that, there are certainly things I don’t particularly love about myself or my body. But I don’t feel bad about the junk in my trunk because I think my brother’s wife has the greatest rear-end I think I’ve ever seen. You would agree, I promise. Still, I don’t know a single person who LOVES everything about themselves. And I whole-heartedly believe there is not ONE person who has “arrived”. We are all a work in progress.

Being comfortable with who I am doesn’t mean I have all things figured out. Far from it! But, I don’t need to be perfect or be everything to everyone to feel complete. I have best friends who have other best friends. I’ve had lonely periods of time. I’ve felt a wide array of insecurities. But I love girls. I love what being female means – and what other women have meant to my foundation. If ever there was a whole, huge chunk of time I didn’t or felt inferior, I was in seventh grade. So, maybe that is the point. Save the drama for your momma and enjoy what makes being a girl so great!

I just plucked two whiskers from my chin. If that isn't a total blast, I am miss-ing-some-thing!!