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Nothing stays the same, but if you willing to play the game… Carley Simon

The flip side of the coin. You always hear it. Two sides to the story. The other side of the coin. Head and tails. But how many people spend their entire lives looking only at the one side of the coin so exclusively that they cannot possibly conceive that the other side may be right, or good, or perhaps even exist. There must have been some statistical study done on the odds of heads vs tails, on which side wins most often. I’ve not heard any odds, nor do I care to investigate it, because, in my world, I always see the flip side. And this is perhaps both my greatest blessing and my greatest cure. I am not often sure which side is the correct one, if there even is such a concept, which side is right, better, more – terminology that in and of itself carries such a weight of judgement. But of this one thing I am absolutely sure. And yes, I did need to qualify just how sure I am – with the absolutely. I am sure that the two sides always do exist.
I have often times heard it said – heard judgement delivered, ironically always from men, as they deliver their very male perspective – as of course they are doomed – one might say to offer – as it is indeed who they have been socialised to be – their socially taught observation on single or divorced women at the 40 year old mark. I have heard variations on the ‘she is so desperate to get a young good looking man because its her last chance to do so’, or ‘she is desperate because her looks are fading fast, and its now or never’ always the reek of desperation, always the time factor. And I look at the women who are the objects – again – a very deliberate choice of term – objects of this judgement, or perhaps even scorn. And I see women celebrating their bodies, I see them wearing skin tight outfits, muscularly lean bodies, hard earned, beautiful figures, well presented appearances, and I see them dancing with disbandment, I see them moving and laughing and talking and flirting and socialising in a way that credits and supports the observations and the nodded concurrences. But I walk around and look at the other side of the coin.
And my G-d. It’s a marvel. Its wonderful. Its sheer delight. Its reckless abandon of all but joy. It’s creation celebrating itself in a way that you only can when you are 40. In a way that is only possible when life has fucked you over in so many ways that all that is left is self acceptance. When you lust and want and desire and have no filters that you need to apply. You have already played coy. For too many years. You have already played the faithful wife, the demure, loving, gentle, discreet object of your husband’s affection. You have already played the victim of self hatred, of body dysmorphia the self talk of not – fill in the blank – enough. Not pretty enough, not thin enough, not sexy enough, not good enough. We have PLAYED those cards. And they got us into a poverty mentality. They bought us years of waste. They bought us cheating husbands. They bought us jobs that suited our role and not our worth. They bought us careers centred around our duties and responsibilities instead of around our talents and hopes and ambitions. We played the wife, the saint, the mother, the duty bound lover.
And now – watch that egg crack, watch that BIRTH.
Its exquisitely beautiful.
Its captivating in its incredible splendour as all of those sticky labels fall off, and we realise for the first time, our power, our worth, and more than that, our souls. We feel the energy of life coursing through our veins, and we have no reason left, no reason at all to play small to suit your definition of acceptable.
To suit your side of the coin.
The side you think is heads.
The side you think places a value on the coin.
Oh, it’s like that first burst of laughter, when it literally bubbles, like carbonated fizz, up from your core, from your soul, up through your oesophagus, up and out of your mouth, and you laugh.
You laugh at life.
And at all you once wanted. At all you once valued. At all you once thought was right. At all the games that “they” now play, or are trapped in playing.
And in our freedom, we dance. And in our freedom, we attract. And in our freedom – we don’t give a damn. Frankly, my dears. This is our time. This is about us. This is about reckless abandon of the body. Having no hang-ups. Liberated after 20 odd years jail time. Where you had to behave in a certain way for fear of. Fear of disapproval. Fear of judgement. Fear of retribution, of punishment. Fear.
This is our liberation dance. And it’s exquisitely beautiful.
And if you see the side of the coin that has the value mark on it, the heads, denoting the designated value, then my friend, you are the trapped. You are still the victim. You are still playing by the rules that others prescribe. You have equations – that neatly tie up – amounts – values – results – add one value to another and you get a specific answer. An equation that doesn’t alter.
But come – walk around this side, when you have the choice to, rather than when life forces you to – come and see patterns, and shapes – come and see kaleidoscopes, come and see laughter. No, don’t hear laughter. Anyone with ears can hear laughter. SEE laughter. Seeing it is a very different experience than hearing it. And it only happens on the flip side of the coin. Come feel life. Come laugh with us at it all. Come to a place where the sad and the pitied are only those who are still trapped in age definitions, in structures, in opinions, in what they think is heads, because they still see the coin. On the flip side, the coin has been spun around so many times, on the flip side – heads and tails have been spun so many times, won and lost, that the spinning is just part of the kaleidoscopic experience. And come and dance with us women, who at last, at long long last, know how to celebrate life.

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