Fresh off a weekend with 11 dear friends, I am exhausted and my voice is still raw, but my soul is rejuvenated replenished.
Woven in among the glasses of wine and cocktails, the reading of US Weekly, the dancing and attempts at twerking, the eating and the far too many discussions about poop, there was also life at its grittiest.
We talked of relationships with spouses, friends, children and parents; of changing identities; of careers and lack thereof; of dreams left to be realized; of growing older and of growing wiser.
Not a single topic was left unturned, unanalyzed (some were analyzed too much). A weekend with girlfriends is like therapy, only far more fun and less expensive (wine in a box is very budget friendly).
After the clinging hugs and goodbyes, I suspect we all walked away having learned something new about each other and about ourselves.
My weekend realization was the purpose of this blog. Let’s face it this blog started as pretty much just online therapy for me and a way to make sense of the voices in my head.
For a few weeks, I’d been contemplating ending it. It had begun to seem self-involved and I was wondering what gave me the right to spout off about life.
Yet after multiple friends (and my mother) over the past week have told me how much my posts resonate with them, I realized I have a responsibility of sorts with this blog.
During the weekend, I was dubbed the “speaker of the house” of our group because I am the third oldest and therefore third in command. I was also dubbed the second loudest, which I still question.
The irony of my fictitious title isn’t lost on me. Somehow because I can put nouns and verbs together with a few adverbs and adjectives tossed in for effect, I have become a voice for my tribe. It is a tribe that goes beyond the women from this weekend—it includes women of many ages, in all walks of life.
It isn’t a huge tribe, but it comprises the circle of women who feed my soul. You, my readers, are the women who help me make sense of my life. My hope is that by spewing my own nonsense, I also help you all make sense of yours.
This weekend I realized that my blog isn’t just my voice. It is the voice of us all.
So if you keep reading, I will keep writing—until not a single one of us has anything left to say. Or until hell freezes over, since that will likely occur first.