Today, I’m going to report as spam any inspirational poster that appears on my wall looking suspiciously like the handiwork of a goth 13 year old with an instagram account. I’m glad the interwebz help you express your deepest copy-paste emotions but it’s aesthetically displeasing to me.

I’m also reporting anyone who STILL doesn’t understand how to use hashtags on instagram: #thisisnothowahashtagworks #whyaretheresomanyofthem #youfailatthisgame

Aki’s portrait is now anchored above my desk, a lucky horse shoe, given by a sweet southern boy, hangs for luck on the front door and a mask of Kali from Nepal at the end of my four poster bed.

The bed itself is covered in canary yellow linens and a cranberry red Pottery Barn throw (security blanket from Chicago - my first all-on-my-own home) whilst little birdies from Cape Town sit on the bookshelf next to photos of Evie, Lux, momma + papa and even my favourite shot of an old friend giving me a scratchy, bearded kiss the night of my 24 birthday in San Francisco. I tucked a hastily scribbled love note from my most beautiful musical friend into a carved wooden box I picked up in Kathmandu and smile every time I finger through my jewelry at the thought of seeing him again.

I struggled to place an ancient photo booth strip that managed to find its way into a vintage blue, snake leather clutch I’d forgotten in a secret pocket. I’m deliriously happy in it, but these days my then partner-in-crime has cooled on my quirks and one-foot-out-the-door behaviour, so it will stay snapped inside until its proper placement comes to me.

Otherwise, a vanilla candle lit next to a bed-side snap shot of Savannah, Anna and I together in NYC, a white mug embossed with the letter ‘m’ - a gift from Lux - that now comes with me everywhere, and well, this house is starting to feel like a home. 

Entering my third year as an expat means I know how valuable the small, sentimental bits are. Different times, beds, homes all feel like discrete little dreams - snow globed moments - equal parts sentimental and outdated. It’s not missing exactly; I find myself carrying around stories that keep me connected to who I am, where I’ve been, the people I’ve loved. The object itself is likely aesthetic, but could as easily be a set of ceramic measuring spoons or a tiny little jade buddha that used to watch over the colourful apartment I once shared with my first big-girl roommate - she kept them everywhere.  The result is the same.

This house will fill itself with new fingerprints and whispers of life lived. Two years from now, I wonder what little token will make its way into my travelling memorabilia menagerie and what depths of emotion I’ll lock up inside of it. 

From the woman who raised me to believe that overalls are totally acceptable formal wear and that you get closer to god on a mountain than you ever will be in a church pew, to the sister who effortlessly threads together her role as rockstar and nurturer and who sets the highest bar by which I will measure any attempt at mothering - I have spent most of my life surrounded by strong, independent, loving and beautiful women. 

It’s no surprise that I’ve continued to seek out women that make me a better version of myself, more open, more honest, tougher. What has become more readily apparent as I’ve aged (slightly… ever so slightly…) is that the ugliest paradigm of paternalism is that it too often causes us to stand, neck craned, staring up at the glass ceiling and italian leather soles framed by men’s suite cuffs. If instead we brought our noses down, we’d see amongst us the answer to our proverbial question - how the hell do get to a place where “women’s issues” are just human issues?

It’s important that I note two things: first, that I understand why we crick our necks thus and second, that there is a solution.

Speaking to the first point, we’ve been told our entire lives, as women, that we have to work harder to get where we’re going and that lesson comes from men (often unintentionally) and women (usually intentionally) and then it bears itself out in our lived experiences. The only way to keep slogging through, at some points in our lives, is to keep our eyes on the prize and our heads up lest we loose hope, motivation or worse - our self respect.

But we all know this. If you’re a sentient woman these days it’s hard to miss the ways government legislation seems to overlook women’s voting power, how global inequities are enacted more violently upon women and how even our basic biology risks our lives - child birth has killed and will kill millions of women throughout history. You can’t ignore the fact that though many of our male partners and spouses believe themselves to be progressive when it comes to women’s issues, they still default to antiquated expectations. And it’s not their fault - it’s society’s.

As such, what I find disheartening is the tendency we have to look to men to support us in our quest for equality. Don’t get me wrong, my male friends are feminists - feminists with beards who are just as offended by what patriarchy says about the role of men (news flash, it’s not women that think “all men are abusers” - it’s patriarchy) and who fight side-by-side with their friends, girlfriends and sisters to end it. One of the best feminists I know is a banjo playing, beer drinking, bearded dude from Ohio and I’ll tell you what, his politics are sexy.

It’s great that there are supportive men, but there are so many issues to address we can’t ask them to do it all and most importantly, we can’t expect them to fix the most broken bit - our relationships with one another. This Women’s Day, I propose women focus on supporting, loving and appreciating other women.

Let’s take our eyes off of those cheap leather soles for just a second and look around ourselves at the women standing by our sides. These are the people that support us, challenge us, pick us up when we’ve fallen to pieces and yet they often go unacknowledged in our own lives. You don’t have to call yourself a feminist (however, unless you sincerely believe that you deserve to have fewer rights just because of your genitalia or gender expression - you are one) but you do have to support and appreciate the women in your life. It’s non-negotiable, it’s not a question of “getting along with men better” - that’s just lazy talk for acting in a way that only people who want to sleep with you put up with. Most importantly it’s not risking your hard earned position at the top of the pile. The fact is, when we act in that way, the pile we’re climbing is made of other women. We’re only tearing each other down.

We aren’t going to make a difference if we are all lusting after another piece of shiny glass - diamonds my ass, I want respect. So let’s start by respecting, loving and appreciating the women in our lives. Let’s look around, learn from one another, grow. With that collective wisdom we can work through our imperfections, our challenges - the things we identify for ourselves as little seep holes in our souls - not what society says we need to improve. I’d rather learn how to better express myself than how to dress for my body shape. Let’s fill one another up until we are so big, we push the glass ceiling off it’s foundations. “Global she-hulk, smash patriarchy!”

I started my morning yesterday with a note from a woman I admire professionally, wishing me success in my new role and offering to talk anytime I feel overwhelmed. I went to sleep after spending an hour chatting to a woman who feels like a sister at this point. Before dinner I received a message from a girlfriend in Burundi reminding me that I’d made good choices and that I was wonderful and I lay for a while aside my mother feeling noting but security and gratitude. 

I woke up today to an email from a female friend wishing me luck as I set off on my latest adventure. She didn’t shower me with unnecessary praise, she didn’t, out of insecurity, try to suggest that my new role would sink me (she did tell me I’d sink or swim, but asserted firmly that she knew I’d do the later). She focused on telling me to remember the little good things that will get you through the big hard things because that’s what it’s all about. She suggested I pack cheese, oreos and peanut brittle. 

That is what female friendship is all about - surround yourself with women who make you better. Be humble when you meet someone to learn from, but strong when someone needs your shoulder to lean on - it’s not a burden, it’s a blessing. Don’t ask a man to solve your problems, he can and should offer, but let him cheer you on from the sidelines - let him give you place to regenerate away from the fray and a hand to sooth your aching battle bones. Be a woman, be proud of that.  Tell little girls that they are good, not that they are pretty. Admit that it’s hard to be a woman, but add that you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Starting today, on Women’s Day, make sure to appreciate a woman in your life, and to tell her so, at least daily.  It will be good for you, good for her and better for women everywhere.

And for god’s sake, bring the peanut brittle. 

A very nice, southern man took me for drinks on Friday. We enjoyed one another’s company so I was pleased to see that he had asked if I’d like to do something Monday. Knowing that I’m moving back to Africa in a week he kindly asked if there was anything in particular that I’d like to do. In an unintentional attempt to see just how much “weird” you can throw at a person, I respond, “Yes! Actually, I’m trying to track down some antlers…”

At least I’m not the guy who told me that, “Everyone around here has accidentally either kissed a cousin or taken one to prom. Guess which one I did.”

AMERICA.

Can’t stop listening. I’ve been a #Zee Avi fan for a long time but this really pushes me into uber fan status.

The past week has been a whirlwind of emotions. Those of you who know me know that I don’t really ‘do’ emotions terribly well. Instead of thanking everyone who has spent hours around the table with me talking, drinking wine and reminding me that change is always hard - I’m going to make a list of wise words they’ve shared with me because it’s not fair to keep it to myself:

1) If you put mint sugar on anything it will become dessert. 

2) Sometimes crazy is good, but there has to be balance or you end up destroying yourself. Don’t let your desire to find balance get in the way of walking away from an unbalanced situation.

3) Wine makes it easier to tell secrets. Boxed wine just means more secrets.

4) You can do any difficult task if you have a friend by your side.

5) When all else fails, make something - food, dresses - just channel it into something productive.

For those of you who are upset about the election results - a couple of thoughts:

1) no single party is going to bring about despotism, the second coming or the fall of America - we’ll do that together by not looking for ways to work collaboratively.

2) there is no ‘profile’ of an Obama voter - I am white, republican raised, I do not benefit from extended healthcare (I live abroad), I’m not on welfare, I paid for my own (very expensive) birth control and I believe in the benefits of capitalism - gave up aid work to do private sector development.

3) we’re pretty good people! If you’re seeing this it’s because we’re friend (right?) so there must be some mutual respect there that enables us to trust that the other makes choices for good reasons, even if we don’t share them.

4) its important to look at the shifts in the house and senate as well. Why are more states voting blue even in Senate races? I personally want to see moderate republicans take back control of their party - how can we work together to do that? Let’s find a candidate that is fiscally conservative, socially liberal and who doesn’t campaign on her/his religion and we’ll go for it together.

5) with results this close, there is space for community led movements - so if there is an issue that was important to you in this election that you don’t feel will be supported… organize and mobilize. Don’t just sit around complaining about Obama.

It’s alright to be scared, angry and disappointed but there’s just nothing productive about it unless you channel it into something actionable. Let’s not make next elections mantra “who can shout the loudest” but “how do we rise above partisanship so we can get back to discussing issues”.

I personally will be working on my very own “Dear President Obama” letter. Spoiler alert, it includes a plea to hire Mitt Romney. Make a special position for him, I don’t care. Dude is good at business so let’s see what he can contribute. I think we can agree that hiring Hilz worked out pretty well.

Good night, all.

This election has been a challenge. Two choices with similar stances on many issues, one forced to shift his positions due to blocks in congress, one shifting his positions to meet the expectations of people - I’ve seen Mitt turn around the Utah olympics, so I believe in his economic acumen. I’ve seen Obama make it easier for my mother to get mamograms, so I see the positive benefit of his policies.

What it comes down to, for me, is the distinct feeling I have that one party is standing firmly with a foot in the future, while the other has one planted in the past. As a woman and expat aid worker and an atheist , I cannot in good conscience support a ticket that refuses to acknowledge that:

• America’s global power is not in decline - the rest of the world is just equalizing
• One does not believe in science - one seeks to understand the process and its findings
• Religion does not belong in government
• Rape is always by force and never legitimate
• In a wealthy country, no one should die a preventable death from sickness - regardless of their ability to pay
• That no one should be discriminated against for falling in love with someone that happens to have the same pieces and parts
• That the needs of 50% of our country do not constitute an agenda - women deserve to be treated equally and given options for affordable care and control of their own bodies

So, I voted Obama.

We can’t go back,folks - women wont go back to kitchens and hangers, minorities wont go back over the fence or to the back of the bus, we wont return to a time when we passed laws based on a single religious perspective, we can’t pretend we don’t see the benefits of science (next time you tell me science is a belief - lets talk about all of the healthcare science has brought your way…) and American will never be the post-WWII hegemon it once was. We can’t go back and we SHOULDN’T go back.

So let’s look forward together. It wont be clear, we will make mistakes, but hope for America isn’t in the policies of the 1950s. Obama, 2012.