Music has been said to be the speech of angels. And Laughter I understand is the music of the soul. French is the language of love, and Latin is the language of kings. So what, pray tell, is the language of the human female?
As girls, we play with our dolls and are taught to care – but not too much; to study – it’ll never be enough; to play – but not with boys; to dream – but within reason; to laugh – but never carelessly; to be brave – and never cry in public; be strong – but not like boys! It’s almost as if everything we know below the age of 10 is an oxymoron.
Then we come into our teenage years. I prefer to call them the Young, Awkward and Stupid Years. We want to grow up – and it couldn’t happen fast enough. We discover the Red Zone – it’s been a mystery for the longest time and now we have it we discover it’ll roll around every month for the next 30years and it’s icky and sometimes comes with pain. We have wanted to physically change – but it’s like wearing an alien suit – it doesn’t quite fit right in many places so we spend a lot of time covering ourselves up. And of course we discover boys and spend the next 8 years performing mini one-[wo]man circuses to get their attention then calling in the reserves [aka the girlfriends] to help us pretend to ignore them when they finally do notice us!
We can’t seem to see the back of our tumultuous teens fast enough and stumble dazed into our Twenties. Here we discover our [false] sense of independence – very minimal and miserable in the grand scheme of things but we rock the next 10years like there’s no tomorrow, cheering and whooping all the way. We discover that we really are the fairer sex and that we really do have the power. We begin to explore and experiment with a boldness that is rarely seen and very much cherished. We experiment with the clothes we wear, we experiment with the food we eat, we experiment with the music we listen to, we experiment with the company we keep. It’s no wonder that we come out of there battered, bruised and licking our wounds from all the experiments that blew up in our faces.
So here we are in our thirties. We have become bolder, but not necessarily louder; Stronger but still so much softer; more confident – so much that we have no problem stepping back and letting someone else shine right along with us. It is here that we have begun to discover the difference between knowing of the finer things in life and actually tasting the finer things in life. It is here that we metamophisize out of the broke dime-store twenties into our more stable ‘I can have the champagne if I want to but I won’t because I don’t want to and don’t have anything to prove’ thirties. We are no longer trying to fit a krystal life into a moonshine budget. Not only because we can now afford the former, but because we are able to distinguish between the two and call the latter like it is.
So today I say to all my champagne butterflies, the lilies that form my valley and the roses that color my meadow: There are tongues of men, and tongues of angels, but for me, the sweetest tongues I love to speak are those they call the tongues of ladies. Loud, Proud and Unashamed. Sing your song, dance your jig, whistle your tune, and just be you!