Women, our time is precious.
My former boss at a bookstore asked me if I'd be willing to come in 3 days a week for 5 weeks to cover one of his employees who'll be out due to foot surgery. He couldn't pay me -- if he did I'd lose my health insurance. He'd pay me in store credit for books, t-shirts, anything he sells. He wasn't willing to pay me cash under the table.
Background: I used to be a bit of a pushover. If someone needed help I rarely said no, even when it wasn't convenient. I did this for this same boss in 2022 when I helped him opening his new store; I didn't even accept pay, did it all for free. Until I realized I was being taken advantage of.
Well, a year later I was in the hospital, having an emergency blood transfusion because I was literally bleeding to death and I was about to have a stroke or heart attack due to blood loss. I then had emergency surgery to remove a cancerous tumor the size of a softball.
All the cancer was removed, it hadn't spread *knocking on wood like crazy* and I'm doing great. As it happens, a month after surgery my first children's short story was published.
This taught me my time is precious, and time's flying. I have a TON of things to write, and I have the luck to have time to write.
But when my ex-boss asked and made his situation sound desperate -- holidays season and he needs shelving done fast so people can see the books -- I said yes.
I put his needs ahead of mine. Which we women do too fucking often.
I woke up at 5 AM this morning thinking, WTF am I thinking? I don't want to do this.
Sure I feel sorry for my ex-boss, but his problems aren't mine. He owns and runs an independent bookstore. Finding someone to cover for an incapacitated employee is what he does, and he gets paid to do it. He asked me because he knew, consciously or subconsciously, that I'd feel sorry for him and help him.
I just emailed him and said that helping him would inconvenience me. I'd be paying $75 in bus fare to and from the store, and he wasn't going to pay me. I don't need store credit because I'm thinning out my books as it is, so he'd be getting my work for free.
I'd lose 18 hours of writing a week, not counting the time spent waiting for and riding on the bus to and from the store. And, I said, my writing takes precedent over everything.
So I said "No." And I was proud of myself for saying it.
Women, our time is precious. Too often we give it away because we feel empathy and sympathy, because we want to help others as we hope to be helped.
We put others, especially men, ahead of ourselves.
We women need to realize that at any time Life can suddenly throw us a curve. We may become injured. We may get sick. We may lose our job or have our partner/spouse/significant other suddenly walk out. We may not have as much time and health to do what we want to do as we think we will.
We need to
Do what you love! Write, draw, read, travel, whatever it is you love most in the world, devote yourself to enjoying it as much as you can. Even if it means you say No to what others want you to do instead.
BTW, here's a couple illustrations from my short story. THIS is what matters to me. :-)
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As an adult, I remember hating my body when I was younger, whether because of self-hating due to my race, body type, bra size, or because I'm female. There were so many nights I went to sleep wishing I'd wake up White, or wake up with a thicker body or bigger bra size, or that I would wake up and miraculously be male. I still remember how deep that self-hatred ran
Now, I've come to accept and even love myself, and I'm more educated on the positives and grand benefits there is about being female. I've been fortunate enough to surrounded myself with wise women, girls who continue our foremothers' fight for our rights, Black women, and other feminists and womanists, and even participated in females-only sports
And because I know the brighter, positive, empowering better side of seeing yourself, it's so sad to see the increase of girls who consider being "not like other girls" a good thing, who desire cosmetic surgery, chasing the Instagram filters looks, or who try so desperately to disconnect themselves from their female bodies (as if that'll ever be possible) even at the risk of living a delusion, or who are still so convinced in gender roles (that a defining characteristic that someone is feminine then that person must be female, which obviously isn't true. There are masculine and androgynous women because this isn't a requirement/being feminine is a choice)
It's understanding where the regressive, sexist, and self-hating thinking originates since we live in the misogynistic world and the over-sexed way females are constantly broadcasted, but that doesn't make it reasonable. It shouldn't be this way. Nature constantly shows there's so many benefits of being female; it's the patriarchy society (that needs to be torn down, in my opinion) that sells the lie that being female is a negative and that same society is what's oppressing us worldwide. And, no, the best attribute of being female isn't that we're able to grow children; we're more complex than just that
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“When she applied to run in the Boston Marathon in 1966 they rejected her saying: “Women are not physiologically able to run a marathon, and we can’t take the liability.” Then exactly 50 years ago today, on the day of the marathon, Bobbi Gibb hid in the bushes and waited for the race to begin. When about half of the runners had gone past she jumped in. She wore her brother’s Bermuda shorts, a pair of boy’s sneakers, a bathing suit, and a sweatshirt. As she took off into the swarm of runners, Gibb started to feel overheated, but she didn’t remove her hoodie. “I knew if they saw me, they were going to try to stop me,” she said. “I even thought I might be arrested.” It didn’t take long for male runners in Gibb’s vicinity to realize that she was not another man. Gibb expected them to shoulder her off the road, or call out to the police. Instead, the other runners told her that if anyone tried to interfere with her race, they would put a stop to it. Finally feeling secure and assured, Gibb took off her sweatshirt. As soon as it became clear that there was a woman running in the marathon, the crowd erupted—not with anger or righteousness, but with pure joy, she recalled. Men cheered. Women cried. By the time she reached Wellesley College, the news of her run had spread, and the female students were waiting for her, jumping and screaming. The governor of Massachusetts met her at the finish line and shook her hand. The first woman to ever run the marathon had finished in the top third.”
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