I have a thing for chicks. Not in the I-wanna-be-on-you-and-have-a-wedding-in-the-forest-then-adopt-foreign-babies way, but in the way that nothing gets my ambition motors revving quite like Wikipedia-ing some badass females.
Chalk it up to all of the recent articles on lady Olympians. Missy Franklin drinks chocolate milk? I love chocolate milk! MOM – I’M GOING TO THE OLYMPICS! At least, I lace up my running shoes and tackle a hot run. I challenge, nay, dare you to look at a picture of Hope Solo and not immediately get the urge do a couple of push-ups. Toned, much?
It stretches beyond athletes and other people who could beat me up. It’s the Hilary Clintons, the Tina Feys, the Katie Courics of the world. Women who wrote their own rules and just fucking went for it. From down here in QLC-land, these are the women who have not only “figured it out,” but kicked some ass along the way.
I have a sneaking suspicion that it you asked them (you know, at your weekly Sunday brunch with Arianna Huffington), that this wasn’t always the case. I’ve seen enough heart-to-heart interviews with Diane Sawyer to know that most of these women have stories of times in their lives when they were a little lost, confused, depressed, etc. If you’ve ever seen Beyonce’s concert special, then you saw her cry because she missed her husband. There were tears coming out of the eyes of one of the most powerful women in the world.
It’s a subtle reminder – no one’s life is perfect (except for whoever is dating Zac Efron). We all have our moments of despair and uncertainty. We’re all the same.
Ish. We’re the same-ish. Match up my DNA next to Beyonce’s, and we’re both human. She’s only slightly more attractive, and probably makes about $3 per hour more than I do, but we’re all just a skin bag of bones and guts.
So what makes them Avenger-worthy, and me a struggler?
One big difference between the girls in the ripped out magazine pages taped on my dorm-room-esque walls and me sitting here on my hand-me-down bed, typing away is a little sprinkle of self-confidence, combined with the belief that they actually deserve exceptional lives.
How many times have I looked at a job posting and thought, “I would love that! But they would never hire me,” then kept on searching for something that was a little more attainable? How many times have I contemplated running a marathon but thought, “I could never finish one of those,” while Serena Williams is on this same earth winning Wimbledon? It’s unlikely that Ms. Williams was playing in her championship match thinking, “Someone else probably deserves this title more…”
I doubt that Michelle Obama was 100% certain she would be accepted to Princeton, and then Harvard Law School, but the girl squashed the nay-saying parrot sitting on her shoulder and went on to become mildly successful (just mildly.)
These women, guys! Shit. I haven’t even touched on the mothers, teachers, or Molly Mahars of the world who are our tangible reminders that people actually live their dreams.
They’re the kick of motivation I need when I’m knee deep in ambivalence. All I have to do is tap into my inner Elle Woods, and chug a glass of chocolate milk to remind myself that I deserve exceptional.
