While I was in Europe I made a concerted effort to disguise my American-ness. My best compliments were being asked if I was from the UK or being mistaken for Scandinavian. I realize I should be ashamed of this attitude but I was inspired by all things European and wanted to believe in the myth at the time.
Returning to the USA I am learning what it means to rediscover my own country, appreciate the beauty that is my home territory. Embarking on a road trip from Southeast to Northwest is a sure way to finding home-grown highlights. It also solidified an even more important path I've been developing for myself.
I love contrasts, juxtaposition of old and new, visuals that cause the mind to think harder, question the real picture and accept the poetry of the dichotomy. This has propelled me on to the path of the real American girl. The real American girl knows how to load and accurately fire a .45 but empathizes with human rights focusing on women's interests. She knows how to shoot a compound bow without letting chandelier earrings get in the way of her aim. She isn't scared to be alone or get dirty working on a project outside but knows how to put on Manolo stilettos for dinner. She understands the delicate beauty of feminine sexuality is balanced between a smart, hard fought confidence and investing in high quality lingerie. This bad ass girl will not be trampled but will hold her own in a competition. And if she is beat then she will work that much harder to get better.
While in Montana I was invited to a gourmet dinner with new friends. Each course was presented by our hostess (an incredibly talented chef and baker) with an enthusiasm and vivaciousness that excited everyone. The main course was comprised of white tailed doe she had shot herself and then cooked in a Guinness sauce with a side of butternut squash and a fried sage leaf. The final course was a delicate flour-less chocolate dessert with homemade cardamon ice cream. Following dinner she invited all the guests downstairs where we were all encouraged nee' required to shoot one of the various bows, air pistols or other hand weapons available. The bow was presented to me with the same exuberance which the meal had been shared. The women at this dinner are leading a charge on a rough-hewn path to being real American girls.
I am dusting off the cobwebs of corporate ambition and apathetic attitude towards personal growth to uncover what has lain simmering below. I aspire to follow in the footsteps of those women. Who is with me?
