Thoughts and commentary on being a strong woman—what it takes, and how we get there

the Strongest Woman

I1> Have Ever Known

In Honor of Marynelle “Bobbie” Crawford, the Strongest Woman I’ve Ever IKnown

By Jessica Sinn

You know the expression, “You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone”? Those words really ring true now that my 95-year-old grandma, Marynelle “Bobbie” Crawford, has passed on to the great beyond.

As I was writing her eulogy, I cursed myself for not taking the time to really get to know the most accomplished woman in my entire family.  Sure, I know she served in the U.S. Marine Corps, excelled in school, and grew up during the Great Depression. But sadly, I only know the Cliffs Notes version of her life.

If you think about it, how well do we really know our grandparents other than the fact that they spoiled us rotten with ice cream, toys and hugs when we were kiddos? As a bratty little kid, I only saw grandma as a white-haired sweet old lady who liked to drone on and on about Billy Graham specials and the benefits of milk and prune juice. And when she did talk about her past I would roll my eyes and say, “Oh boy, here we go again.” I was too busy wishing I could be flirting with boys at the mall than sitting in this old lady’s house listening to her talk about the hardships of her youth.

Now that she’s gone, I would give anything – even my precious Ford Taurus – to spend one more day with this woman and learn more about her epic journey – from growing up on a dairy farm to working her way up the Marine Corps totem pole during World War II.

It wasn’t until I began writing her eulogy when the sharp pang of loss hit me like a sucker punch to the gut. A huge flash of regret waved over me when I realized that I was just now learning about this wonderfully brave, complex, strong woman.

You see, unlike the Facebook generation, grandma didn’t like to talk about herself.  Although she often reminisced about the Great Depression, She didn’t gloat about her accomplishments – and trust me, there were many! Here’s what I learned as I gathered details about grandma’s life:

Born on May 4, 1917, Marynelle Thompson, grew up on her grandfather’s dairy farm in a small Southern patch of Bryant, Arkansas. She spent most of her childhood in Little Rock, where she graduated from Central High School with honors.

After high school she received secretarial training and worked for the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers until she and her best girlfriend joined the U.S. Marine Corps Women’s Reserve after the start of World War II. She was assigned an office staff position at Marine Corps Headquarters in Quantico, Va.

Among her many important duties, she provided clerical support for the Manhattan Project. Proud to serve her country, she quickly worked her way up through the ranks and was promoted to corporal, not an easy task for a woman Marine back in the World War II era.

In her later years, she was fond of saying she had the equivalent of a college degree in military records. During her enlistment, she fell in love with Sgt. Donald Hughes Crawford, the boss of her best girlfriend. Shortly thereafter, they married in a quiet ceremony in 1944. Resplendent in their Marine Corps uniforms, their wedding was intimate and understated. But even if she had all the money in the world, she wouldn’t have had it any other way.

After grandpa swept her off her feet, the rest was history. They made a home in sunny Carlsbad, California where they lived a quiet happy life by the beach. Although grandpa struck it big in the stock market, they lived very frugally and never took even the simplest creature comfort – milk especially – for granted. As a kid, I always groused over their penny-pinching ways. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why they wouldn’t indulge in fancy cars and designer clothes. Boy did I have a lot to learn.

Although it pained her to spend money on “frivolous” things like clothes and household appliances, she put my sister and I through college – no questions asked. She made provisions for our future and gave us a place to call home after our mother split. In addition to the much-needed financial assistance, she gave us the confidence we needed to chase our dreams. Considering our shaky upbringing, I shudder to think where we would be today without grandma’s love and support.

She had a way of making anyone feel special. She never let a conversation go by without telling me how proud she was of me. She may have sounded like a broken record, but my heart warmed over whenever I heard those words. Growing up, my mother always laughed at my future plans and told me “you can’t,” but grandma always made me believe the opposite. With her encouragement and eternal optimism, I knew I had it in me to finish college and write for a living.

So as I sit here stewing about the things I could’ve, should’ve done while she was alive, I realize the best way to get through my grief is to honor her legacy. No matter what hardships come my way, I need to invoke my inner Marynelle Crawford and pick myself up by my bootstraps whenever the going gets tough. Even in her darkest days, she would somehow find a happy place. Let’s face it, nursing home life is grim. But she found a way to enjoy it by occupying her free time with long walks around the rest home. Rather than zoning out in front of the TV, she’d strap on her walking shoes and go to town on that walker. The staff was so impressed by her walking routine, they monitored her steps with a pedometer and found that she clocked one to three thousand steps per day!

As you can see, those are some big shoes to fill, but I am determined to make her proud. Rather than focusing on material things, negative thinking, and trivial drama, I need to remember the lessons grandma taught me: Be strong no matter what life throws your way; Believe in yourself in defiance of naysayers; And above all else, be kind.

Thank you grandma for all the gifts you have given me.  It’s hard accepting the fact that you’re gone, but I know you’re in a better place. Semper Fi!




Posted in Rosie the Riveter, Steel Magnolia, Strong Woman, Uncategorized, Writing Strong Women | 2 Comments

Just Say It

Just Say ItJust Say It

The day was overcast.  I sat at my desk with the overhead light on while I wrote at my computer. My husband had gone on errands. When he came in, he walked over and flipped off  the light.

That felt offensive to me. I’d turned the light on and felt he should have checked with me before turning it off.

I tapped into my feelings about that, looked at him and said something like. I turned the light on because I wanted it on.

He said well, you don’t need it, but he flipped it back on because he realized it wasn’t his place to  turn it off on me without at least asking my permission.

To me, that was my decision to make–whether I needed it or not, and I  was able to “just say it.” because I’ve worked so hard on doing that. It doesn’t matter whether the other gets upset over it or not–that is up to them since I am not responsible for their feelings. I am responsible to claim what I need to claim and to say it without personal attack of the other.

Sometimes I think the most difficult thing to do is to bring up a topic of controversy or deep feeling. I find the best thing for me to do is to just say it–without the heat that can build up over deep emotional issues. And trust the process.

For whatever it’s worth, I have learned, and continue to learn, instead of being too fearful to just say what I need to say to another person, to listen to that inner voice AT THE TIME I feel it in my gut, my chest, my wherever. Then, instead of building up heat in order to be able to say it, I tap into that feeling, that truth, and identify it quickly, then just say it much like I’d give the weather report. Like,  say the sun is shining.

I’ve been asked what makes me  able to do that because most of us really struggle with that. I admit, that has not always been my reaction.

I do understand. Few of us can do that–say what we are feeling in a non-emtional way. It has taken me years to identify and to learn how to just say it, and say it at the moment of the interchange.

It takes tuning into your body and making a quick assessment, and then, saying just that.

In a particular job, I began to realize that a road sign would sometimes surface in my intuition, telling me to stop long enough to pay attention to that intuitive feeing, and in my haste, I had ignored it and gone on with what I was doing. Then, later, what I had ignored would come back and bite me in the butt. Such as a purchase order I approved without questioning the person further who had submitted it. Sure enough, it would get stopped by my boss and he’d send it back to me disapproved, or with questions.

So I began to pay closer attention to my intuition, I began to analyze the feeling–identify where in my body I felt it, ascribe a color to it, then understand the meaning behind the color. (I have a number of books on Colorology–another good thing to learn more about–powerful work!)

After doing that, and putting the physical location (Chakra!!!!) of the feeling in perspective, and understanding that feeling related to the color, I began to understand what my body was telling me about any given situation. Why I was reacting the way I did.

As I did that, I began to learn that if THAT is what I said, then I could describe it at the time–as if describing the weather, because it was an organic reaction. I had allowed my body to speak to me–understand the feeling, and then just say it at the moment in a non-attacking manner or tone.

You know how, when later you wished you’d said how you felt at a given situation? By learning to just say it  at the very moment of the interchange when you first feel it in your body you develop a healthier relationship with the other. And, you do it before the discomfort does physical and emotional damage.

Quickly check in with your body, identify the feeling, and then just say it.

It is amazing what our bodies will tell us–IS TELLING US–yet we stuff it down, ignore it, deny it, postpone it, and then think later–oh I wish I’d said that. This process gives me an opportunity to process all of that almost instantaneously, and the more I do it, the faster I can do it–at the very moment.

The key is learning to just say it — BEFORE the anxiety or hurt feelings build. For instance, where in your body do you feel the put downs or the criticisms another person might dish out?

What color is it? What does it feel like? A twinge, a sharp knife, like a drowning? Now, quickly give thanks for your body’s messages to you, then, just say it. For instance:

(All of this verbage below is said calmly, unemotionally, as if, “the weather has been cold today, or maybe it will rain tomorrow, or….)

Perhaps–”I feel like a child when you constantly criticize me. That is abusive. I am not a child and I will no longer be treated like one.”

This way, our message is clear, we take a stand for our selves without attacking the other person. We claim it for ourself. Then stand.

Just Say It







Posted in Steel Magnolia, Strong Woman, The Bully, Uncategorized, Writing Strong Women | 7 Comments

Why Timing is Everything


I’ve learned that timing is often dependent on how intently I’m listening.

~Jim Hogg

whyLikely you have heard the saying, Timing is Everything. I remember once, many years ago, when my oldest grandson, Michael, and his uncle, Jon (my next oldest son) were traveling in our car with us. Where we headed and why, I cannot recall. However, my grandson had been getting in trouble with his step-dad for taking issues of importance too lightly in an attempt to be funny. As good uncles do, Jon made the statement “One thing I’ve learned, Michael, and that is that timing is everything.” Which indeed it is.

However, in a recent conversation between my oldest son, Jim, and me, he bumped that statement up a notch when he said, “I’ve learned that timing is often dependent on how intently I’m listening.”

Really adds a whole other element to listening and timing. Sometimes we listen without really hearing what is going on between ourselves and another person. Adding another element to listening and hearing, contemplate this: Don’t listen to what a person says,  listen rather to why they are saying it.

When we do that, we separate out what is about us, and what is about the other person. We each talk in code, repeating what we’ve been taught is correct, or true, or right.

When I challenge myself to understand the other person, where they are coming from, what their values are, and why they say what they do, I can better listen to why they say it.

Often, that why has little to do with me, and so much more to do with them.

Listening is important. Timing is important. Why we say and what we do is important. Why the other person says what they do is equally important. Therewith comes understanding.

Why timing is everything, so is listening

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What it is. What it isn’t.

What is defeat and when might a woman experience it?defeat

Defeat is not the same thing as not doing something correctly. Defeat occurs when, in the midst of a difficult task, we give up, not on the situation, but on ourselves. We quit trying.

The opposite of defeat is success. We succeed when we win the battle over ourselves. When we persist in the pursuit of our dreams, no matter the obstacles, we are winners in life, for we have won over our weaknesses.

Or until we learn to not say no.

A woman with a novel in first draft once said to me, “I’m afraid to keep going with this, trying to get published, because I fear I will fail.”

My reply? “We only fail when we stop trying to accomplish our goal. You won’t fail if you don’t let yourself. When discouragement comes,  you pick yourself up and keep working at it until you carry out your goal. That’s the only way any of us will ever be successful.”

I didn’t always follow that advice. For many years, I was a quitter. There are many projects I would start, get discourage, and stop. Only many years later would I learn the secret of success–don’t stop!

How about you? What works for you that helps you carry out you goals? How do you handle rejection or the fear of defeat?

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The Price Women Pay to be Loved

price women pay to be lovedIt continues to amaze me,  the price women pay to be loved.

Why is it that so many women have difficulty saying NO to their family and friends, thinking they must be all things to all people–the same women who resent people taking advantage of them, yet swallow those feelings and let people continue doing it?

I offer that it is the price women pay to be loved. Some women, that is.

One example is a 74 year-old woman I know who allows her daughter-in-law to dump the four-year-old child with the grandmother to babysit without any consideration to the older woman’s age and lack of energy it takes to care for the child. She shares with friends how difficult this is, but says she just can’t tell them no. That is a huge price–risking even her own health. Again, the price women pay to be loved.

This is not a situation where the family can’t afford daycare. They just choose to save that money to spend on other things they want. The older mother/mother-in-law resents being taken advantage of, and is no longer up to the rigorous physical effort it takes to care for a child that age. Yet she will not stand in her own power and tell the daughter-in-law NO. She doesn’t want to offend, or to ‘hurt her feelings’ or make her mad, or… could it be–stop loving her? If that is what it takes–abuse–to be loved, I’ll take doing without it.

The result of such actions is not that they stop loving us, but rather the abusers learn to no longer respect us. They choose rather to use us.

I must admit, in the past, I was guilty of such co-dependent behavior. But not anymore. Not since I discovered who I was, what I stood for, and what I wouldn’t stand for.

Since I discovered that I couldn’t even begin to know who I was, to define myself, what I believe and what I don’t believe, if I don’t practice giving firm no’s, when no is what my gut feels.

I believe that we must first learn how to give firm no’s before we can truly give the resounding yes.

When we can give a firm no, we are on the road to knowing who we are. We learn this as a child, then over time it gets ‘unlearned’ out of us. Maybe this is a bigger issue for women than it is for men. If this is something you have not learned to do–to give firm no’s–then I challenge you today to practice doing so.

Identify and draw your boundaries. Don’t allow others–friends or family–to use you. Don’t pay that price of being used and abused.

How about you? Do you find yourself allowing your family or friends to use you, when what you really want to say is no? Is this easy or difficult for you to do, and if so, how long, and what did you do to get to where you are today?

Check out Streets and Deep Holes for guidance in learning to make better choices.

The price women pay to be loved is too high a price to pay–and doesn’t result in anyone loving us amy more than they already do anyway.

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Another Famous Women Quotes

With the upcoming primary elections, I think it is a good time to reflect on another of our Famous Women Quotes. Remember this when you go to the polls!

There never will be complete equality until women themselves help to make laws and elect lawmakers.

~~Susan B. Anthony, women’s activistFamous Women Quotes

Yes, we’ve made progress, but these days, it seems like there is a conspiracy to take much of that progress away. My message to women everywhere is to remember the sacrifices many women have made that resulted in much of the gains we have today.  For if we don’t remember those gains, and fight for them, we and our daughters are likely to be paying the same price again.

Another Famous Women Quotes: You are invited to add your own to our Comment section.

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Streets and Deep Holes

Streets and Deep HolesEver stop to think about all the wrong streets you walk down and all the deep holes and cracks you fall into? Then, do you scratch and claw your way out, all while blaming someone else for your choice of streets and subsequent potholes?

Streets and deep holes, in this instance, is metaphor of  the choices we make that repeat the same mistakes over and over again. Often, these choices follow the same destructive patterns we have made throughout a lifetime.

When you get right down to it, our lives are full of lessons and wondrous opportunities to learn them. Free beings that we are (if, indeed, that’s true) we choose to walk down the same streets we’ve traveled before, and often fall into the same/similar holes. When we do so, we have another opportunity to learn that lesson again. We can choose to learn it now, or we can wait until the same lesson comes around again (and it will, I guarantee you!) giving us another opportunity to learn to make different/better choices.

I don’t know about you, but over the years, I walked down the same pothole-filled streets many times, and yes, been given another opportunity to learn the lessons I came into this world to learn–lessons about streets and deep holes. (i.e. relationships that aren’t good for me, jobs I don’t enjoy, overcommitment of my time, social groups or churches I don’t care to participate in, overly needy friends that ‘drink my blood.’

In time, I learned that these streets and deeps holes are there to teach me the same lessons, but each time I learn them at an even deeper level, until finally, I get it!

If I refrain from blaming others and take a deeper look inside, I recognize these are the same streets and deep holes (read:lessons) I’ve traveled and now I can decide not to spend all the energy it takes to avoid the potholes, but rather to choose a different street!

What about you? What streets and deep holes have you walked down over and over again, and over and over again gotten caught in the same lessons you thought you’d learned (but evidently hadn’t, else you wouldn’t get caught in them again.  What lessons keep coming around for you to learn? What does it take for you to learn them? What does it take for you to not only avoid the potholes, but choose another street to go down?

Streets and Deep Holes don’t have to control our lives!

Posted in Strong Woman, Uncategorized, Writing Strong Women | 1 Comment

Revolutionary1> Women

Revolutionary woman, Suzanne Adair wrote a comment about her book on my blog and I was so enthralled by it I asked if I could post it as a guest article, rather than as a comment. Enjoy.

revolutionaryAward-winning novelist Suzanne Adair is a Florida native who lives in a two hundred-year-old city at the edge of the North Carolina Piedmont, named for an English explorer who was beheaded. Her suspense and thrillers transport readers to the Southern theater of the Revolutionary War, where she brings historic towns, battles, and people to life. She fuels her creativity with Revolutionary War reenacting and visits to historic sites. When she’s not writing, she enjoys cooking, dancing, and spending time with her family.

<i>The Revolution had little emancipating effect on women who, of course, protected hearth and home and participated in the fight just as much as did the men</i>

The role that women played during the Revolutionary War actually kick-started the emancipation of American women. Here’s the background.

When a man went off to fight for or against the King, he left his business/farm to his women. Women had to do it all, right? Thus in the absence of their menfolk, women ran the businesses and farms, often doing a <i>better</i> job at it than their men. And women did <i>everything</i> that men had done, even the jobs we think of as traditionally masculine; they were printers, blacksmiths, lighthouse keepers, carriage makers, etc.

When men returned from the war, they couldn’t help but notice what women had done inrevolutionary their absence as well as the fact that women were not content to be shoved back into the domestic damsel role. Men who had fought for the cause of independence — men who were responsible for shaping the new country — realized what a great asset women were. They also realized that American women needed to be educated beyond just reading, writing, and ciphering.

The first college for women was established shortly after the Revolutionary War because of this realization. True, the initial agenda was, “Educate women about philosophy, science, and politics so they can become good patriots and nurture the next generation to shun the evils of monarchy.” But Americans didn’t buy that for more than a couple generations. Women continued to gain ground.

Single women kept a certain amount of identity, but when they married, their sense of self was sucked up into the status of the men they married.

Yes, and widows, like unmarried women, held more power than married women. But history is peppered with examples of married women who found ways to circumvent these laws.

Suzanne says “what made me write Camp Follower, several things. First of all, I had an enigmatic exchange in my first book, Paper Woman, between the protagonist, Sophie, and her brother, David, in which she asked him whether he’d ever killed a man before, and he admitted that he dueled with and killed a man over the man’s wife years earlier. In the 21st century, David would be locked away for murder, but this sort of illegal dueling went on well into the 19th century, with men getting away with murder. I wondered what the woman at the center of the duel was like, to have instigated such a violent event. I decided that she and David were still in a relationship, and I wanted to explore how murder had shaped their relationship. That became a sub-plot for Camp Follower.

In addition, I wanted to correct the wrong impression we have of camp followers. When you read the term, you think “prostitute.” But in the 18th century, the people who qualified as camp followers — civilians who traveled with an army but were not directly paid or compensated for it by the army  — might be artisans (ex. blacksmiths), sutlers (ex. merchants), or retainers (ex. family members). Family members followed armies all the time during the Revolutionary War because most cities back then were too small to afford protection from an entire army, and the army was the safest place to be. Prostitutes, in fact, made up only a small percentage of people traveling with an army. Most of the women retainers were wives, sisters, mothers, and daughters of soldiers, and they had a hard, hard life following an army after their menfolk. So I tell their stories in Camp Follower.

Also, I was intrigued by the idea of thrusting a woman journalist into a war correspondent role, even though there were no true war correspondents back then. Women journalists mostly wrote the Society Page in magazines. We have no records of them ever going into battle danger. But what would happen if a woman did find herself in such a position? What kind of woman would she have to be to survive the brutality of a battleground? I also explore this in Camp Follower.

The vast majority of our first-hand accounts from the Revolutionary War are from the point of view of men, mostly soldiers. Women of the time don’t seem to have a voice. But, I thought, if I could give women from that time voices, what would they say about the war? Certainly, it would be different from what men would say, and it most definitely wouldn’t be a romance.”

Revolutionary woman, for sure.

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Another in our

Famous Women


Famous Women

Quotes by famous, strong women:

There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening, that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium, and will be lost.

~Martha Graham

Famous women quote: Martha Graham (May 11, 1894 – April 1, 1991) did to modern dance what Picaso did for modern art.

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Knights & Pink Pigs | knight


Our guest author today is Lindsay Frucii, a recent guest on my Blog Talk Radio program, Writing Strong Women and the author of The Pig & Me-a powerful story of her ‘knight’ and the journey of a very strong woman.

In 1989 when a personal bankruptcy robbed her family of financial security, Lindsay decided the way back to marital and family bliss was to start a business that would make gobs of money. Out of the mantra “there must be something I can do”€ and a passion for fat-laden, fudgy brownies that made it hard to zip her jeans, an idea was born: healthy brownies for the masses. In a leap of faith borne on the wings of innocence and naivete, she founded No Pudge! Foods, Inc., and began an unexpected whopper of a roller coaster ride.

Be warned, this post is a little long, so if you can’t finish it in one sitting, mark it and come back and finish. It is well worth your time.

The fairy tale is an enviable, business success story. The reality is the story of a woman who was raised hearing “You can’t” and found, to her surprise and great satisfaction, she could – and then some.

As a little girl, I always knew exactly what my life would be like when I grew up. After high school I would learn a trade and live at home until my white knight came along. You know, the tall, handsome dude on the white horse. The one who would carry me off to a big house with a white picket fence where I would be his wife and raise our children. His job would be to earn a good living and take care of me because God knows, as a woman, I wouldn’t be able to take care of myself.

When the white knight didn’t come along as planned, I was left feeling insecure and lost. On my 25th birthday, my older sister – who’d married right on cue at twenty-one and had two babies in two years – cheerfully informed me that I was officially an old maid. As I approached my 28th birthday, still single, it suddenly hit me that I was tired of waiting for that damn knight. Suddenly hit me. As in never crossed my mind before.  You know it’s almost embarrassing to write that, but it’s the God’s honest truth. I was twenty-seven and a half years old before I first thought that maybe it was time to stop waiting. Waiting for the damn knight. Waiting for someone to create a home with. Waiting for someone else to make me happy. Waiting to play the role I’d been raised to believe I’d be a failure without.

So I quit my job as a nurse, got an entry-level job in Corporate America, started making a lot more money and damn, didn’t that knight show up. He was driving a Saab Turbo instead of riding a white horse, but he was tall and handsome, had a great job, owned his own house and at 29, was still – incredibly – single.  Boo Yaa!

You’re probably thinking, “She’s a little slow, but at least she finally got it” and assuming that my knight and I married and had little knights (we did). It also makes sense you believe I’d grown enough by then that our marriage was one where we both considered me a strong and equal partner. Ah…. No.

My husband had been raised to view our roles in the same way I had and once our first son was born, we both slipped unknowingly right back into them. It turns out that roles ingrained in you since birth don’t disappear, they simply submerge, waiting to rear their ugly heads at the first sign of weakness.

I adore the role of being a mother. To this day being a mother to my two sons is, without a sliver of doubt, the role that makes me happiest. But the role of unequal wife? Not so much. The lack of equality was not an in-your-face, you-are-the-subservient-wife thing and it was never conscious on either of our parts. It was just the way it was. For me it translated into a frequent sense of discomfort – like the costume I’d been handed was too heavy, too scratchy and too confining. I wore it for fourteen years before rebelling. What can I say? I’m a slow learner…

I was forty-four when I began to tear the costume off. We were going through a difficult financial and emotional time. Not an optimal time for rebellion, but when the voice inside you finally wakes up and screams ENOUGH! – you listen.

I decided I wanted to start a business – telling myself I was doing it to help my husband knightand family financially. But where I saw a golden opportunity, my husband saw a money pit and the harder I pushed, the stronger his resistance. I dug in my heels, telling myself I was going to prove him wrong. But that feeling quickly became an overpowering need to prove to myself that I didn’t have to live the life that others had designed for me. As I began to evolve and grow, my marriage struggled to do the same. The process almost tore us apart, but today our relationship is stronger and happier. We are, in every sense of the word, partners.

I now know that life is too short to be wasted trying to live the life that others expect you to live. That said, I also know the feeling of terror that accompanies the beginning of rebellion and understand all too well how hard it is to break out of a role you feel super-glued into. But we all deserve to live our life. The life that brings joy and freedom and gratitude – not the one that breeds exhaustion and resentment and envy.

It’s a difficult and scary journey, but by taking it a one-small-step-at-a-time it’s far less overwhelming. And if you are stuck, it’s a journey that must be made.

I broke free one tiny step at a time. Moving forward at a slow pace but always moving towards the me I was meant to be. The journey isn’t easy – I’m still on it – but if I can do, so can you.

So you see, readers, white knights can also take the form of pink pigs.

Readers, share your own tale of strength and courage by adding your comment to the post.  Indeed, white knights come in all colors, shapes and odors!

And a special thanks to white knight Jessica Sinn at Chick Lit Cafe  for recommending Lindsay as a guest on Writing Strong Women.


Posted in A War of Her Own, Crones, Steel Magnolia, Strong Woman, Uncategorized, Writing Strong Women | 14 Comments

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