I remember the moment. It wasn’t like any other moment in my life. When I deeply understood the profound power of my feminine. It happened about ten years ago. I had already been dancing my erotic when I had an innocent encounter with a man driving a tow truck.
I was driving with my daughter Ruby, who was nine at the time. I was about an hour out from a nasty email/text/phone fight with my hub-mister, Richard, who was working in London. He was testy. I was testy. It was a stupid fight but suffice to say I was one hundred percent right, he was one hundred and ten percent wrong (and being an ass about it). As I was driving, I was thinking about a particularly mean text from him that ended with, “Just leave me alone.” I’ll leave him alone all right, I fumed to myself as I took a short fast left U-turn only to smash my back left tire hard into the curb. Within seconds, I had a flat and an upset kid. I pulled over to the side of the road and called AAA.
The tow truck guy got to us in just 15 minutes. He was middle aged, handsome, and very masculine in demeanor. He asked, “Where’s the spare tire?” I was like, “I don’t know.” Then he said, “Can you pop the trunk?” I said, “What?” He said, “Pop the trunk?”
It felt like my blood froze over, oh-no…really? Of course, it was in the trunk! Where else could it have been? My face turned dark pink because I forgot that the spare was in the friggin’ trunk and I was just not sure what else in the world I had in there… Women, one word of advice so you don’t have to suffer the indelible mortification of being unprepared: KNOW WHAT IS IN YOUR OWN DAMN TRUNK.
I complied and opened the trunk of my car. We walked around to the back. Inside was the divine mess of my life. I couldn’t even begin to tell you what it felt like to walk up to a huge pile of stuff that made up the most intimate parts of my life… with a total stranger. And my 9 year old kid looking on. It was pretty darn interesting. As Ruby and I helped him dig out the spare tire here’s what we waded through: one pair of light-up seven-inch Lucite stilettos (which of course start to twinkle red and blue when I handed them to him to hold as I pulled out my brand new thigh high, lace-up-the back sevin-inch black vinyl boots (the image of him holding these two items with one hand as he pulled out the tire with the other was pricelessly and forever seared into my memory), also in my trunk were three pairs of shiny metallic S Factor booty shorts, five bullet shaped bras in red, purple, black (two) and nude… two pairs of riding boots, a velvet riding hat, and a pair of black suede chaps. I grew more and more confident as I peeled the goods in my trunk apart and saw little pieces of myself and my erotic creature, Stormy, enter the clear light of day. It felt good. It felt right. It felt shameless and, well, to be perfectly transparent, it was hilarious. I started to smile. There was something about looking the patriarchy literally in the face surrounded by feminine accoutrement that just made me laugh.
I’m sure he imagined all of these various pieces of clothing on me at the exact same time. What an image! I don’t think he knew what hit him. My trunk was spilling over with sexuality and verve. And there I was purposefully blissfully oblivious, yet, deep down aware of his shy intrigue and subtle embarrassment.
Mr. AAA guy changed the tire in a sort of reverential way. You know, with the way he knelt in front of the car and all. He treated me with sweet respectful kindness, with a “Who is this new breed of woman before me?” curiosity. Because there I was, completely unapologetic. No explanations. No fear. He finished and when leaving smiled and nodded his head but no other words came. He was absolutely smitten, I smiled to myself.
This brings me to 2 things to think about as you carry that powerhouse of a body forward into the world:
First, you are a new breed of woman. Not everyone is going to be familiar with this new kind of woman who lives so fully connected to her feminine self. Teach them by being one hundred percent who you are, in every single moment, without apology.
Second, the trunk of your car is a mirror of your life. So before you get a flat tire and need help changing it, check out what’s back there! You might make yourself smile.
