Becoming a Woman Jamboree: The Zip Story
Growing up, I was about as carefree as kids come. The loudest one singing, the first one to cartwheel, and had snacks stuck in the excessive amount of curly hair I had.
Life was all about catching turtles and learning how to pitch. Endless nights of flashlight tag surrounded by so many wonderful people.
Ya, life was good. I could have never seen it coming. The scariest thing was about to show up in every facet of my life.
I was about to start becoming a woman. A journey not for the faint of heart. Some small girls are afraid of the boogie man. Some fear things that slither or sting. Some are afraid of the dark.
When I was a small girl I thought that if any of my feet or hands hung outside my covers, something would be able to pull me out from my bed and into a scary underworld that clearly lurked below. Obviously, if all my extremities were tightly tucked in, i’d be safe. Everyone knows monsters can’t penetrate blankets.
Monsters were the least of my worries. My greatest fear sat on a shelf in our hall closet.
The zip.
“The zip” was a large cup of wax that sat hardened on the shelf. Laying dormant like a volcano. Scary, but quiet and hard. Drips down the side that reminded you of what the cup contained every time you had to get a bandaid.
Yes, it’s an interesting day of middle school life when your mother informs you that she is going to wax your mustache and unibrow. Saying that she was made fun of when she was little and didn’t want her girls experiencing the same pain. That we are “dark haired ladies” (OH MY) and that “beauty is pain.” (WHAT?)
Oh and also that we should be thankful, cause when she was our age she had to wax her grandmothers legs for her. (AHH! THAT MAKES THIS OK?)
Yes, welcome to becoming a woman. You are going to bleed every month out of your downstairs, but you must hide it in every way you can for every males comfort. Holler if you hear me, ladies with a tampon currently tucked into their sleeve in route to the bathroom.
Your entire body will change. Hair will grow in all kinds of places but you must spend your days only letting the world see you hairless like an infant.
Now come over here and let me stick this large glob of hot wax on your face and rip it off.
Now 12 year me is already bigger, faster, and stronger than my mother. Mother is 5’3 and Father is 6’4, you are already headed towards the average height. So when she would apply the wax, if she looked the other way or turned for more zip, I’d take off running. I would find a way to escape her with my wax mustache blowing in the wind.
She’d be yelling at my father to catch me. I’d juke her and climb to the top bunk and burrow under all the covers. Hot wax mustache still in tact.
“People are going to make fun of you.” My mother said as she tried to pull my leg and drag me out of the to bunk.
There it is. The messaging we get when we are becoming women is umm.. pardon my French but it’s f*cked up…
Do this so people will find you attractive. Wear this or you will not fit in. Hang here if you want to be cool. Buy this to be alike..
Don’t wear clothes that show your skin, the boys can’t learn!
Do not touch any one sexually until you are 25 years old. If you do, you are a slut. Shame. Body confusion. Most adults favorite method of birth control for their children is fear. Now you are 25 years old and now society expects you to have a happy, healthy sex life and love your body. Figure that one out.
You see the trouble is, we call it a sex talk, but its really a life long sex conversation.
One minute you are a tiny troll girl with a unibrow stalking frogs on the mud flat in your backyard. Playing sports, making camp fires, and the only knowledge of sexuality is what you’ve read on the wooden playground. “I’ll give you a nickel, if you’ll tickle my pickle.”
My sister actually thought penises went sideways due to a drawing we had found. Good thing these days she is a Nurse Practitioner of Women’s Health and not men’s health. Phew.
The next thing you know people are heating up closet wax. The world starts telling you that adulthood is all about finding a romantic partner. People start believing that being with someone else is the key to their happiness.
They are wrong every time.
Romantic relationships are awesome. But all the best ones I know are between people who first did some work to figure out who they are. Then brought their whole selves to the partnership.
I heard the D.A. speak last winter. He said if he had dollar to solve the addiction crisis, he would put 25 cent towards recovery. He stated how recovery is very important and those services are needed in every community. Then he would give 75 cents to prevention.
It broke my brain.
What are we doing differently to help the next generation change the pattern. Why are people always saying “well when I was a kid..”
Stop trying to recreate your childhood and join today. This is a new world. Welcome. The strongest don’t survive. It’s the most adaptable to change.
Our kids are moving less, connecting less, and have increasing rates of addiction and suicide.
We need to teach our kids that life is hard. That emotions are big and real. Then we need to give them all the tools and coping mechanisms that will help them navigate these parts of life.
That night I manically wrote the curriculum for Teen Yoga Workshop Jamboree.
What if I could create a space for teens to learn how to take care of themselves. How to understand what things like yoga, meditation, and mindfulness are.
If I had a dollar for every time someone said that they wish they found yoga when they were younger to me, I’d already be able to have the first three kids yoga jamboree books published.
I know what it’s like to grow up in a home with addiction, divorce, and general nonsense. I have done a lot of failing, that’s why I’m so wise. I had major back surgery when I was 15 years old to have scoliosis corrected. I was an athlete and now I am the coach.
I realized I could take the tools I had acquired to navigate emotions and trauma and give them to our teens.
I realized I could take all the lessons of community, team work, and fun that I got from team sports growing up and weave them into yoga. So that even if a teen isn’t into sports, they still have a physical outlet to learn about their body.
Yes, I could help teens learn about who they are and make sure they aren’t living in someone else’s story. I could help them start to write their own. We could make vision boards and I can rant about hydration.
We can talk about the importance of dancing and yell I love you and I am in the mirror.
A place where we can lay on bolsters and vent about period cramps.
A place where grounded is a good word. A safe space that is not school and it is not home. A community that will love you for exactly who you are, the only rule is that you must be kind.
Then just when I think this idea can’t get any better, the big dipper hears that I want to do this and she gets on board.
There's no way I can pay you back
But the plan is to show you that I understand
You are appreciated
Now Thursday night is my favorite thing.
Because one day we all wake up with our face glued to our pillow due to hot wax being left on it. (No, that’s just me?) Well, whatever your hot wax story. Whenever womanhood bitch slapped you in the face.
Know that you have an opportunity to tell the next generation of girls that becoming a woman is about figuring out who you are, not who you supposed to be.
Next session: TEEN YOGA WORKSHOP JAMBOREE
Thursday nights at Evoke Yoga and Cycle.
