That Kind of Woman

I stand at the shore.

I feel the urge to joyfully and freely frolic into the sea.

My representative stops me.

She tells me I’m not safe.

She must first scan for threats.

There are too many, of course.

I am frozen.

I am resigned to her wisdom.

I resent, but respect her.

The beach is my happy place.

I am always more at peace, more at ease and more at home in my body when I am in the presence of the sea.

The blues and greens of the water.

The white or tan sand.

The crashing waves.

The cadence of the surf.

And yet.

When I get near the water, I am compelled to STOP.

Every fish.

Every jellyfish.

A threat.

I am vigilant.

And I wonder.

What would it be like to be the kind of woman who just goes out into the sea?

A woman who frolics into the surf?

What would it be like to be that free?

What would it be like to be married to that woman?

What would it be like to be loved by that woman?

What would it be like to have that kind of woman as a mom? A nana?

What would it be like to have that kind of woman as a friend?

What contributions would a woman like that make in the world?

What would it take for me to become that woman?

Because the question has been asked, the journey has begun.

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