Da Boot

I have a friend from work who has been through the grinding mill with her ex-boyfriend. Suffice it to say that they had very different ideas about commitment and sex. So for a second time in just under two years, my friend was flung out into singlehood after a six year relationship (and lots and lots of tears and yelling). Some time in the weeks following the break up, my friend had the following late night text message conversation with a male school counselor she had worked with at a school (purely - and I mean purely - professionally):

Guy: Hey. What's up? My girlfriend and I were thinking that you would be perfect to do a threesome with us.
Friend: This is xxxx xxxxx''s phone. Did you mean to text me?
Guy: Oh, yes. We think you'd just be perfect.
Friend: Go to hell.

Um, yeah. Niiiice (from a middle school counselor). Uncharacteristically, this friend, who has a huge heart for people and their potential and a small heart for her own gifts and what to expect from people, especially men, took the conversation to the director of school counseling. She complained. People listened. The male counselor had a big sit down with the three female counselors at his school - so embarassing - and he ended up leaving his position. My friend expressed new found power following her break up and actions that made her feel so grown up and like a powerful woman who just wasn't going to take the crap anymore.

As Michael and I are back together, how much I recognize my friend's new found power and developing that power myself. Following Michael's moves out, I felt like I first lifted myself up by my bootstraps and then was powered forward by a new found inner strength. Two things were symbolic of this - my new found ability to make appointments (I used to put off getting my hair cut or making ANY appointment because I didn't feel "old" enough or part of that world to do it . . . emailing for doctors appointments totally enables me) by phone and a pair of knee high black boots my mom and her husband bought me. I put on the boots one day for work and felt, quite suddenly, like a woman. Like an adult. Like part of the grown up world.

I have wondered as life moves forward, if getting married at age 22 changed how I "grew up," if being flung out on my own made me grow up in new ways or if just having a life crisis paved a path for new growth. As much as I'd have liked to skip over the last two years, I have learned, like my friend, to be more forward and more of a self-advocate. I take less crap and expect more from people. For this, I am thankful. And I am still ready to kick some more ass with my sexy boots (or at least get my hair cut).