I wanted a girl. I wanted my 3-year-old to have a sister. I wanted to be able to use the term, “the girls” when talking about my kids. I wanted to recycle my daughter’s clothing and pass down her toys. I wanted to raise girls. I know girls. I’ve studied girls. I grew up a girl.

But then came the ultrasound results, when we opened up the sealed envelope to view the images and find out the sex of our unborn baby. There was the head and profile of a perfect face. There were the tiny feet. There was a fist. And there, on that final image was an arrow pointing to a tiny penis with the caption, “I’m a boy.”

Disappointed is not the right word here. This was my child and he was healthy and perfectly formed and growing rapidly inside of me. I was not disappointed to find out I was having a boy, but I was taken aback. “What am I going to do with a boy?” was all I could think as the news set in.

I’ve always imagined myself as a mother of girls. I had a girl first. I wished for a girl and was thrilled to find out our first child was a girl. Raising her has been the delight of my life. She is feisty and funny and smart and beautiful. When I imagined what my second child would be like, I couldn’t help but imagine a copy of my first child. She was all I knew and my love for her was all consuming.

I am not a “girly girl” and didn’t wish for a girl so I could cover her in pink ruffles and dress her up as a princess. I had (and have) all intentions of raising a strong and independent girl. One who knows who she is and what she wants. If that happens to be pink ruffles and princesses, so be it. I don’t necessarily want a tomboy either. But if she happens to love being outdoors and riding bikes over dress-up and playing with dolls, that’s fine with me, too. I want her to be who she wants to be.

That’s part of what I have studied for many years – helping girls discover and be who they really are and who they want to be. I’ll admit, my studies have been pretty one-sided. I studied girls partially because I needed to work on myself and heal from my life growing up as a girl. Boys were never a focus of my studies, not really on my radar, even. It was important to me to learn about girls for my own transformation and for girls of present and future generations. As I worked and wrote and studied, I hoped that someday I’d have a girl or girls of my own to raise and to whom I could pass down all I had learned.

And this brings me back to that ultrasound photo and those words, “I’m a boy.” Reading that, I was excited for the new adventures a boy would bring, but I also felt a bit of dread. Again, I thought, “what am I going to do with a boy?” I don’t know enough about boys to raise one. I don’t know what it’s like to be a boy. I don’t know what they like, how they think, what drives them, and how to read them.

Months of apprehension awaited me as I prepared to welcome a boy into my world. I was honestly afraid. A boy was a new animal to me, something unexpected, something unknown. I had gotten used to life with my husband but a baby boy whose life depended on my care was something altogether frightening.

I remember thinking, even up to the morning of my c-section that the ultrasound could be wrong and that maybe we’d have a girl instead. It wasn’t as if I didn’t want the baby inside me – whatever it was, boy or girl. I just leaned more toward girl and had a hard time accepting the fact that soon this boy would be a part of my life.

And then he was born. Strapped down, numbed, and dazed on the operating table, I looked up above the blue sheet concealing my cut-open abdomen and I saw him. All of a sudden this boy who had been aggressively kicking inside of me, wreaking havoc on my body, and already turning my world upside down was here. And he was mine.

In the brief moment that I was able to see him before they took him away to get cleaned up, weighed and measured, I fell in love. His cries from across the room pulled at my heart. I tried to listen as the nurse filled my husband in on his vitals, weight, and length. My son, a healthy 9lbs. 4oz and 21.5 inches long was here and his gender no longer mattered.

The first time I was able to hold him, I placed his bare skin up to my chest and felt him curl up into me, where he belonged. This was my child, my son. Wishes and college studies and ideas of how things should be disappeared completely. Girl or boy, it didn’t matter. What mattered was this healthy, beautiful baby curled up on my chest. This baby who needed me as much as I needed him.

Being and new mom of a daughter and working with young girls, I’ve recently been consumed with books, articles, documentaries, poems, websites, organizations, and discussions about how to raise strong girls in the world we currently live in.  One hot topic is that of the Disney Princess Syndrome.  Also on the table is the bombardment of pink, sparkles, frilly dresses, baby dolls, and other things that come with raising a girl.  

Before my daughter was born, when I was more about ideas of motherhood than actual practice, I swore that there would be no pink, that everything would be gender-neutral, and that only strong females (real or imaginary) would be role models for my daughter.  But then I had a baby girl and the pink parade began.  Pink dresses and hats, pink blankets, pink socks, and tiny little shoes with pink bows.  Most of the clothing came from others – and what could I do about that?  I did return a few items, but others I just could not resist.  Dressing my little girl in pink became a natural thing for me.  But so did dressing her in blue, green, yellow, and all other colors of the rainbow.  Pink is just a color, after all, not an anti-feminist statement! 

It seems my ideas about raising a daughter have quickly changed, even after only four months of motherhood!  What’s the big deal?  I find myself saying.  What’s wrong with a little pink?  A princess here and there?  And traditional “girl” toys (dolls, kitchen supplies, and other girly things)?  I admit, I myself have purchased a pink item of clothing or two.  I bought the first baby doll (who is wearing a pink dress and ballerina slippers!).  And I look forward to the day when my daughter and I can watch some of my favorite Disney movies together, including those with princesses!  It’s fun.  It’s cute.  It’s not who I ever was or want to be, but I don’t think it would bother me if my daughter gravitated toward these things. 

I’ll give my daughter options – she can play house and dress-up, and she can also ride a bike and climb trees.  She can read books and make art, and she can also build with blocks or race matchbox cars.  She can wear pink dresses with sparkles, and she can also wear blue jeans and sneakers.  She can be who she wants to be.    

I don’t see the problem if my little girl wants to wear pink, dress up like a princess, take ballet, or play “house” (ie. cooking, cleaning, and mothering).  I want her to be who she wants to be; not who I was or wish I could be.  I want her to discover for herself what her interests are – even if they are dance class, sparkly shoes, and princesses!

I can offer her all the gender-neutral clothes and toys and she may still find a way to princesses and pink.  Sometimes those things are just irresistible to little girls.  It’s not about the clothes or the toys, anyway.  It’s about the ideas behind them.  If she thinks princesses are weak and always need saving then perhaps she’ll have a skewed idea about women.  But if she has strong female role models like her mother and other women, hopefully she’ll see the difference between fantasy and reality and model herself after real women.

So I’ll let the pink parade continue for now.  When my daughter is old enough to choose her own clothing, maybe she’ll dress differently, maybe not.  Right now, though she’s just precious in her little pink (and purple, and green, and yellow…) outfits.  She’s adorable when she holds and squeezes her little baby doll.  And I just can’t wait to introduce her to Disney – princesses and all!

(Here’s some of the work I do…..)

Stability and a place to call home are not  prevalent  in the lives of many young  women affected by homelessness in Cincinnati.   They jump from one  place to another: couch-surfing at friend’s or family members’ homes,  living in shelters, or even on the streets.  But during a program offered through a partnership  between Women Writing for a  Change and Project Connect,  many of these young women discovered a sense of community  they never knew  before.  The girls, recommended to the program  by school  counselors and Project Connect coordinators came  together weekly during the school year with WWfaC Young  Women’s  and Outreach Coordinator, Dawn Koch to write about  their lives, share their stories, and create community. 

Each week, Dawn met with groups of girls in four schools throughout Cincinnati – Western Hills Engineering, Western Hills University, Aiken, and Woodward High Schools – for hour-long writing groups.  The groups gathered each week in crowded classrooms, large and spacious conference rooms, modular units, and even science labs to write and share together.  Topics covered included the themes of beauty, hope, loss, love, friendship, change, self-identity, and the girl within.  The young women wrote and shared stories and poems about their every day lives as teenagers, the struggles they face as youth at risk for homelessness, and powerful tales of sexual abuse, poverty, and more.  Their courage and their strength to rise above the difficult lives they lead was a powerful force that helped them not only write but openly share these painful stories.  

Coming together as a community, the young women in these groups became family, learned to trust each other, discovered friendships, laughed together, and created bonds that will last far beyond the closing of these groups.  Quiet and often afraid to share at first, the girls quickly learned from each other that each of them had similar stories to tell.  They learned that they were not alone in their pain, anger, and sense of loss.  They learned that there were others out there who were willing to listen, willing to share their stories, willing to open their hearts and let them in.  The young women learned quickly the power of being heard, as each group stressed confidentiality, respect, and active listening within the circle boundaries.

In early May, the girls came together for an end of the year readaround at WWfaC.  On this day, there was no division between school groups as the girls mingled, shared stories, and connected through common experience.  Each young woman stood bravely at the podium to share a story or poem she had written during the school year.  They talked and laughed over pizza.  And they glowed with excitement as they each received a copy of the anthology of their writing: Our Stories, published by WWfaC partner, Beyond the Trees.  This anthology can be viewed or purchased at our website (www.womenwriting.org) or by following this link: http://www.blurb.com/bookstore/detail/2106781.  

Our young women’s outreach program was also recently highlighted in the Cincinnati Enquirer and showcases the individual stories of just of few of the many young women whose lives have been changed through writing.  To read the article and view a video slideshow from the May 17 online version, follow this link: http://news.cincinnati.com/article/20110517/LIFE/105180316/Writing-helps-students-tough-situations?odyssey=tab|topnews|text|News.

Women Writing for a Change is so proud of the work we have done with the young women in these programs.  Hearts have been touched, stories have been shared, voices have been raised, and lives have been changed by the power of writing together in community.  We’d like to thank our partners, Project Connect and Beyond the Trees, LLC for making this work not only possible but successful.  It is our hope that these programs will continue far into the future.  

If you would like to contribute to this cause, please visit our website: www.womenwriting.org and click on the “donate” tab at the top of the page.  You can find more information about Project Connect by calling 513-363-3300 or emailing pc@cps-k12.org.  Visit Beyond the Trees at: http://www.beyondthetrees.net/

I am a writer.  Or, I was a writer.   I am out of practice.  It used to be that I’d write in my journal every day, sometimes two or three times a day.  I used to fill pages with intimate thoughts, poems, personal narrative – you name it.  Writing used to be the thing I did above and beyond everything else, the thing I depended on, threw myself into, and devoted myself to.  Now all I write are snippets of things during writing workshops I facilitate, Facebook status updates, emails, and other work-related pieces. 

My work revolves around writing – could that be why I write less?  Does that even make sense?  The work I do – creating agendas for writing groups, writing contracts, sending an overwhelming amount of emails, creating training materials, and teaching writing – seems to have kept me from my own writing.  In writing workshops, I have very little time to write for myself.  And after a day of writing for work, the last thing I want to do is crack open my journal.  But I miss it.  I feel as if something is missing in me.  There is a hole I haven’t been able to fill in my life lately.  That hole is writing. 

The advice I give to others – write every day, don’t worry about spelling or punctuation, don’t worry if it makes sense or not, just write, just get it out – I haven’t taken to heart for myself lately.  My journal has sat unopened for far too long.  This blog has been dormant for so long that I’m sure I’ve lost any readers I might have had in the past (if I had any to begin with).  I’ve forgotten my practice.  I’ve neglected my process.

Life has gotten somewhat in the way of my writing practice.  I got married nine months ago, got pregnant soon after.  Our first baby is due in two weeks.  I’ve taken on more responsibility at work.  And I’ve tried to devote time to my new husband, our household and our life together.  There’s been a lot of life to live, a lot to plan, and a lot to process over the last year.  Writing has taken a back seat to all of that.  Really, though, I should be writing through it all.  I should be documenting these incredible and exciting life stages and events.  I should be processing through my journal.

So now I am here to say that I am getting back into the writing practice, I am jumping back into the process.  Or at least I am going to try.  In the two weeks (or however long it may be) until my daughter is born, I plan to write.  I am currently on bed rest and quite bored so it should be easy – I hope.  I plan to crack open that journal, pay attention to this blog again, get the creative juices flowing and WRITE!

Writing defines me, it fills me up, it nourishes me and sustains me.  I need writing in my life.  I miss writing.  I can’t believe I have gone so long without it.  So here is what I am proposing….I am going to write every day – at least a page a day – in my journal or on this blog.  I am not going to worry about meaning, content, creativity, or polish.  I am just going to write – for me – because I need it, because I love it, because I miss it.  Stay tuned – if there is anyone out there reading this.  I am getting my writing practice going again.  And wow, it feels good!

As an expectant mother, I have many dreams for my unborn daughter.  Above everything else, I hope she is healthy.  Beyond health, though, I wish for her many things…

I hope she learns to smile early in life, and that her smile represents true happiness inside.

I hope she is full of wonder and amazement at the incredible world around her.

I hope she is adventurous, that she takes risks and tries new things.

I hope she has a vivid imagination that builds her creativity and sense of discovery.

I wish for her a healthy self-esteem, and that she knows she is beautiful inside and out.

I wish her a big heart and that she learns to love and to share that love openly with others.

I wish her kindness for and from others.

I wish her peace in her everyday life and decisions, and that she doesn’t let stress, worry, or anxiety get the best of her.

I dream for my daughter a safe place to call home, and a safe world around her.

I dream that she’ll have an easier life than I have had but that life is tough enough to teach her to be strong.

I dream that she’ll know love from her parents, family, and friends, and that one day deep, committed love will find her.

I dream for my daughter true happiness; that she discovers and pursues her own dreams, that she explores the world, takes joy in learning, and loves to laugh.

I dream for my daughter everything under the sun, because that’s what she deserves.

Finding peace with our bodies – the way we look, rolls, wrinkles, and all – can be an excruciatingly difficult experience for many of us.  We have been bombarded by images, messages, and advice on how to look better, younger, thinner, sexier.  We have been teased for our weight issues, or ridiculed for our breast size.  We have been excluded because we are not thin enough, not pretty enough, not sexy enough, or not young enough by someone else’s standards.  We have been told – either directly or with subtle messages – that we are not good enough because of the way we look.  We hold pain deep within us from some comment, some humiliating experience, some moment when we knew we did not measure up.  We hold it in and it eats away at our self-esteem, body image, and well-being. 

The truth is…..it is almost impossible to measure up to these standards.  The popular media’s image of beauty is not realistic, not attainable.  What is realistic and attainable is the journey toward inner peace, positive body image, health, and well-being.  One way to begin this journey is through a dedicated and positive writing practice such as the one taught in The Body Journal, an upcoming workshop at Women Writing for (a) Change.    

The Body Journal workshop will give you the tools to learn to use writing to find peace with who you are, improve your body image, achieve weight loss goals, and support you in your journey toward a healthy lifestyle.  Using a number of journaling techniques and prompts, we will begin to write our way out of the negative body space we are in and shift our focus toward the positive.  What is great about you?  What’s beautiful?  What’s unique?  What can you appreciate, celebrate, and flaunt?  And why not celebrate it all? 

Please join me, Dawn Koch on Saturday, October 23 at Women Writing for (a) Change to create your own Body Journal and begin or continue your journey toward a healthy mind and body.

To register, contact: Women Writing for (a) Change

(513) 271-1171/www.womenwriting.org

Cost: $30

Women Writing for (a) Change

6906 Plainfield Road, Cincinnati, OH 45236

(513) 272-1171 

http://www.womenwriting.org

ddiebold@womenwriting.org

These words speak better than I can right now……

Dithyramb of a Happy Woman

            by Anna Swir 

Song of excess,                                                

strength, mighty tenderness,                    

pliant ecstasy.                                                  

Magnificence                                                    

lovingly dancing.                                            

I quiver as a body in rapture,                   

I quiver as a wing,                                         

I am an explosion,

I overstep myself,                                          

I am a fountain,                                               

I have its resilience.                                     

Excess,                                                               

a thousand excesses,                                    

strength,                                                            

song of gushing strength.

There are gifts in me

flowerings of abundance,

curls of light are sobbing,

a flame is foaming, its lofty ripeness

is ripening.

Oceans of glare,

rosy as the palate

of a big mouth in ecstasy.

I am astonished

up to my nostrils, I snort,

a snorting universe of astonishment

inundates me.

I am gulping excesses, I am choking with fullness,

I am impossible as reality.

                                                ~translated by Czeslaw Milosz

I’ve been busy.  I’ve been writing my thesis (now finished!), planning my wedding, creating and facilitating workshops, and fulfilling other obligations while also trying to live a life beyond work.  I’ve been out of touch – with this blog, with some close friends and family, with myself, and with my body.  I’ve been disconnected.

But in the last week things have been beginning to change.  As I mentioned, my thesis is finished, turned in, and (hopefully momentarily) on its way to binding.  The workshops I’ve been creating and facilitating have been running smoothly and successfully.  The wedding planning…well, that’s still a big one.  But most importantly – and the reason for this shift in consciousness lately – is that I’ve been getting more in touch with myself and my body lately. 

Last weekend I had the opportunity to attend a Yoga and Writing class at Women Writing for (a) Change (www.womenwriting.org), facilitated by writer and yoga instructor, Suellen Hugan.  I love yoga – wish I did it more – but it has been a while since I have maintained a yoga practice.  This class with Suellen sparked my interest in yoga once again.  The class combined the physical (and mindful) yoga practice with the emotional (and mindful) writing practice.  Weaving together the body/mind benefits of each, participants were treated to two and a half hours of self-care, reflection, gentle postures, and self-expression.  I had forgotten how beneficial yoga can be for state of mind and body.  After the class I felt rejuvenated, refreshed, happy, and light.  I vowed that day (in writing) to introduce a yoga practice back into my life.  I also vowed to get back in touch with my writing practice, which has waned recently.

Another experience from last week that is responsible for this shift is that I joined Curves once again after a hiatus of some time.  I was a devoted member of Curves from 2005-2008, even transferring memberships when I moved from New Jersey to Ohio, then to Indiana.  But finances, time, and determination waned and I let my membership expire, not renewing when the time came.  But, in planning for the wedding and wanting to get back in shape, I decided to join Curves just for the three months leading up to the wedding.  It was probably the best decision I could have made.  I wish I had done it earlier.  I’ve been to Curves every day since I have joined (except the weekend) and plan to continue 5 days a week until the wedding.  I feel great!  I feel motivated and refreshed.  I feel inspired and not so weighed down by stress, obligation, emotion, and especially weight.  After losing over 80 pounds a few years ago, I know what my body is capable of, and for the last year I have not been treating my body well or using it to its advantage.  Like I said, I’ve been disconnected.  It is wonderful to get re-connected!

Yet another experience that has inspired me was a True Body Project (www.truebodyproject.org) workshop I attended last night at Women Writing for (a) Change.  The two organizations, discussing a partnership, came together last night to let some of the members of Young Women Writing for (a) Change experience what a partnership might look and feel like.  Led by Stacy Simms from TBP, we came together as a community and participated in gentle Pilates movements, wrote and shared together, and discussed the experience.  Learning to weave movement together with the writing experience has been an eye-opener for me.  I have always valued the two as separate practices (writing the more focal practice in my life).  But when I, with guidance, allowed the two to come together, a whole new practice emerged. 

I have a lot more to explore in the link between writing and movement, first as it relates to myself and my body, and then with others in my writing classes.  But I am intrigued, my interest is sparked, I’m sold, even, on the benefits and power of the link.  Being able to get in touch with myself through writing, and with my body through movement has helped to create a balance in my life that I have been lacking for a while.  And though I have just begun this exploration, I am already feeling its effects. 

There will be more to come on this topic as I explore it further.  But right now it is enough to know that I am getting back in touch.

I’ve been wondering lately…does anybody really get what they want?  Is anyone really living their dreams?  Is anyone fully and completely satisfied with the life they are living?  It’s a great thought, dream, or wish, but can it really be achieved?

For me, money, time, obligations, location, fear, and ultimately contradiction all get in the way of living the life I really want.  I have achieved a lot, yes.  I have overcome obstacles and accomplished goals, and am even living some of my dreams…but there’s more that I want, more I don’t have that keeps me reaching, searching, and struggling.  This is probably true for many people, right?  Are we ever satisfied?  Or do we just learn to settle with what we have, where we are, and what our life is like right now?

It makes me sad to think that I am settling for a life that I don’t fully want.  It makes me sad to think that I feel so stuck sometimes, and that I have no other choice. 

I get bored easily in one place.  I like travel and nature.  I like to experience new things, see new places, learn about different arts, cultures, people, and places.  I enjoy working on my self to make improvements, be a better person, continue learning and growing.  I love filling the well with experiences.  I want more, more, more. 

And yet, I love lazy days at home with a good book, television show, or just time spent sitting on the front porch.  I am thrilled to be getting married soon and am looking forward to a happy, simple life with my future husband.  I ache for my first (not yet conceived) child, counting the days until he or she is born into this world to bless our lives.  I look forward to mothering, raising, and nurturing my children.  I love small town life, simplicity, routine, and the day-to-day stuff. I am happy in this life. 

How can I be these two different people at once?  How can I feel so fulfilled in one sense and so lacking in another?  Why do I feel like I am settling for this life, when simultaneously, this life fills me with joy?  Is there a balance?  Is there a way to find peace, somehow, with both?  Will I always feel as if I am settling?  Or will my desire for experience and personal transformation ultimately wear me out? 

I am tired.  I’m tired of trying, of always working on myself and searching for more, and trying to find out who I am and what I want.  I want to settle down and be happy.  But then, I am bored, too.  I feel like this (this place, this life) is not all that’s left for me.  I feel like there is so much more out there waiting for me.          

I am a contradiction.  I say one thing…then I say another.  I want one thing…then I want something else.  I am happy one day…then I am unhappy the next.  I am one girl…then I am someone totally different.  Who am I?  What do I want?  I am always, always, searching for the answer…

In relationships, it is so easy to let little things get in the way of love, appreciation, and acceptance.  Annoying habits and quirks begin to overwhelm sometimes until the negative things are all you see – or at least point out.  Instead of seeing – and commending – the positive, it is sometimes too easy to complain or ridicule the negative.  No one likes to do that, no one wants to, but for many of us that bad quality of pointing out the faults cannot be helped sometimes.  I’m sad to say I do that with Ron.

I guess it comes from wanting more, wanting better, and  always trying to make improvements.  I am a dreamer and a romantic and sometimes I can’t help but imagine (and want) the “perfect” relationship.  But I know nothing is perfect and relationships take work, sacrifice, and struggle.  I just want our relationship to be the best it can be.  Sometimes though, I forget to focus on the positive, wonderful things because I am too busy looking for and dissecting the negative, annoying things I hope to change or make better.  Too much of this too often leads to fights, hurt feelings, and doubts about our relationship.  And one evening, not too long ago, Ron pointed this out to me.

So after arguing, then ignoring each other, then finally talking it all out, Ron and I decided to begin something he had recently read about in Andre Agassi’s new book, Open.   Agassi, he says in his book, uses a dry-erase board to express his appreciation for his wife, Stefani Graf with little daily notes of love and gratitude.  I thought this was a wonderful idea and ran out quickly to purchase a small dry-erase board to post in our house.  This would work for both of us, we thought, because we are both craving the positive attention from each other that we sometimes forget to give.  Who doesn’t love little notes of affection, gratitude, and appreciation once in a while? 

Since posting the dry-erase board on the wall in our office/guest room Ron and I have written every day or couple of days, small notes that express our appreciation, support, love, and gratitude for each other.  Sometimes these notes have to do with special days to celebrate each other such as Valentine’s Day and my birthday, which both  just passed.  Sometimes the notes have to do with something going on in our lives such as struggles with jobs, school, friendships and family.  And sometimes we just write random loving notes that express how we feel about each other. 

I can’t tell you how rewarding and special this is – both to receive the comments from Ron and to write them as well.  It has created a connection between us that we did not have before – or maybe just did not work hard enough on.  I LOVE thinking of special things to write to Ron and I watch him, excited for him to read what I’ve expressed.  And I also LOVE coming upon the board to find a new and wonderful comment from Ron that makes me feel so special and loved.

I hope we continue to use this board to express our appreciation, love, and affection for each other.  I also hope that by doing this, we learn to express these things in other ways, as well, and more often.  Learning to fully appreciate the gifts of this relationship and each other will help us build a stronger relationship as we move forward toward marriage and a lifetime together.  The love is there and it is strong, but sometimes with the day-to-day “stuff” of life we forget to express it.  But with this positive and fulfilling activity, Ron and I have found a deeper love on a dry-erase board.