A lot of women see themselves through the lens of Sex and The City. I frequently hear “she’s a Charlotte, she’s a Samantha…” I gave that show try but I just couldn’t see myself in it like so many of my fellow lady folk seem to. There is something to be said for finding yourself in fiction. It makes you feel like you have some like minded company out there in the wild, lonely world. I find my self in a million different works whether it’s books, tv, or movies. I can proudly say that I am an Anne Shirley (freckles and all) or I am a Tibby Rollins, I am a Diana Bishop, a Hermione Granger, a Liz Lemon, a Matilda Wormwood, a Sookie Stackhouse (from the books, not the show) and I see my self as a bit of a Rory Gilmore. I want to see not only fragments of myself but versions of my self that I aspire to be… A person who is bookish but not meek and quiet. Who can be both damaged and incredibly brave, who can overcome their neurosis and kick ass. I want to see protagonist I would be happy to have my 12 year old sister look up too. People who make mistakes and overcome them. There are more and more positive role models for girls in fiction and I hope that there are more to come.
I am having one of those simple, blissfully content moments. I’ve spent my afternoon reading in the sun. I am soaked in aloe, cooking in my kitchen with Dee at my feet and Carole King blasting.