Hey, Ladies…

Female friendships that work are relationships in which women help each other to belong to themselves.

I’m in this amazing time of life where somehow, I’m completely surrounded by women. Incredible women who inspire me to press on into life and who allow me to inspire them, in return. I had so hoped to have this finished in time for International Women’s Day, because these are the women I want to celebrate. But time, and exhaustion kept me elsewhere.

Ladies of my life, this is for you.

There are those who are far away whom I share an internet friendship and far too few stolen moments in our real worlds. As I write that, I think of KuzInc and Jill—brave and brazen and tender and true women.  There’s Tammy, my delightful, wonderful, inspiring, gorgeous and incredibly kickass friend. If I could pick a twin, I’d pick her. And not just because she calls me Stiletto. There’s Helga, my Icelandic maiden. She’s a master of beauty and loveliness. There’s Jodi, who brings such honest joy and heart-felt simplicity to my life in all that she is and posts and shares. Years ago, she offered me one of the greatest kindnesses of my life—forgiveness and a clean slate. Even typing that brings tears to my eyes. My friend Holly smiles upon me via Facebook, daily. We live just blocks away and I truly miss her.  Renee and Jenn and Jennifer and Mandie, Steph and Megan and so many of my wonderful Facebook ladies can be added to that list. There’s Janet Franksy—my MommaJ. She guides and challenges me and leads me into being the kind of woman I can be proud to look at in the mirror each day.

I cannot say how much I value the women in my life who are “away” and yet so near.

And then, there’s this group of women who hold my every day. In some way, shape or form, they are with me.

My Fellow Farm Truck and I have truly been through some crazy I Love Lucy hijinx and random Laverne & Shirley type adventures. From keys stuck in trucks to trucks stuck to towing trucks (complete with loads of hay) to dog rescue missions, we spend a lot of time scouring the world for adventure. I love this woman. Her heart is straight and she is as loyal a friend as you could wish for. During some of the dreary stretches of my life, we’d sit bundled up and freezing on the sofa, watching Hell On Wheels and eating whatever we found in the garden. We’d daydream about Annie Oakley and all things freedom. And for a while, driving in my van, we could taste it. I love her. This woman holds something sacred of my heart. She holds my adventures.

The Care Bear is truly one of the most amazing friends a woman could hope for. She’s been my boss twice during the course of my life, and both times, she’s offered me employment at a time when I’ve been (unbeknown to her) desperate for work. She was there when James was just a wee little ball of energy, scheduling my work shifts so I could be home as much as often, even offering her daughters up as babysitters, so I could feel like James was in good (and free) care.

Last Fall, when the Change of Time happened in my life, she was there, again, with a job for me.
The Care Bear is among the most faithful cheerleaders I have in my life. She’s spoken words that my tired heart needs to hear. She championed my book sales, she shares links about my books and tries to find opportunities for me to sell or promote them.
When I feel like quitting, she suddenly appears with hands full of hope and understanding. She’s a magnificent woman, and I love her dearly. This woman holds something sacred of my heart. She holds my joy.

My Fake-Wife, the Dancer and I have long-joked that we should just go ahead and get married. We’ve been friends for more than 14 years, and have spent a lot (A LOT) of time together (at one point we lived in the same house). Our kids think of one another as brothers. And trust me, they’ve fought like siblings just as many times as they’ve played together. We’ve share more meals together than most families manage. We’ve slept in the same bed (remember that awful night at the Hideout?) and she’s endured my relentless teasing. She’s the only friend I ever ordered out of my car (together with my son, as they were bickering like children!)
She has almost single-handedly, carried my life in her hands during some incredibly hard times this winter. She’s seen me cry more than almost anyone. She was the one plopped on my bed last fall when I was so sick. Her home is a second home to me, and she’s my most faithful roadtrip partner.
She is brave and loyal and fierce. She’s raised, alone, an incredible son and has fought her fears, fought her sorrows, fought her disappointment, always rising as the victor, going on to live another day. Her faith is strong, her sense of humour is delightful, and her dance moves are legendary. This woman holds something sacred of my heart. She holds my every day.

The Birdie
Hokey smokes, I could write a novel about my friend Birdie. But I won’t, because a lot of it is confidential and none of your business and, besides, we like to keep ya’all guessing. Years and years and years ago, when I met Birdie, she was so sad and so broken. I was honoured, I’m still honoured, to have walked with her through darkness and sorrow.  We’ve also had days where we pretty much wanted to kill one another, or never see one another again. I believe the Fword needed to be retired for a few years, simply by our over-useage of it with regard to talking about the other.
Over the past years, our relationship has moved on to be one of my most treasured friendships. I have poured out much of my heart and soul to her and with her. We’ve shared fears and failures. We’ve untangled life and tried, with slow, steady hands, to braid it together again.
Of anyone I know, Birdie is the absolute best at just letting things be. She never tries to rush things into being better. She never imposes her thoughts or opinions. And while she shares freely what she thinks about a situation, and sometimes, we strongly disagree, she has never, ever judged me (or anyone, I’d imagine) on choices that are different than hers.
She’s raised two of the most incredible women I’ve met. Her daughters are… golden.
She is an incredible, faithful, strong and courageous woman, and someone I am so, so, so honoured to have on my team as I go through life.
This woman holds something sacred of my heart. She holds my hope.

My First Wife
(Sounds so scandalous, doesn’t it?)
Before the Dancer up there and I were fake-married, and between my fake-marriage to my lovely and kickass friend Megan, I was all married up with My First Wife. We  met, years ago, when I did her makeup for her wedding. We’ve been best friends for years. Sisters of the heart and then, for a while, strangers and distant, while we both grew into the newnesses of our lives. In the days of old, she truly loved, supported, challenged, accepted and fought me for all that is good in both my life, and that of my son. You can read lots about that here.
Over the last year, I’ve again loved how our lives have intersected. We have shared much newness of life and so much of what we’ve learned—as mothers, as women and friends and as individuals. We’ve grieved together over things we’ve lost or places where we’ve been wounded. But we’ve grown too. Not together, because part of what’s amazing between us is how very separately we live, and yet how together we are.
At a time when most women are settling down into their 40s, she has totally revamped her life—gone back to school (while mothering five children!) and started a second career! I am amazed by her and I truly cherish this friendship. This woman holds something sacred of my heart. She holds my history.

The Baker We don’t see one another nearly enough. Years of work and child-rearing, of men and marriage and change and growth have kept our worlds hopping. The one time a year I was in her city was the only day she wasn’t. Too often, when she’s thinking of coming here, I am not free. And yet our hearts are cozy together. She is the one and only person that I speak to on the telephone regularly. That, by the way, is a big deal. She holds my heart. She holds laughter overflowing and just the right mix of sarcasm, irreverence and sweetness. I like to think that part of why we don’t live in the same city is because no city could handle it. We laugh. We’ve cried. We figure it all out, and then do it wrong anyhow. This woman holds something sacred of my heart. She holds my silliness.

SugarCane, my Rock Star
My friend SugarCane is one of those people that everyone wishes they had in their life. There’s something about who she is that inspires and ignites passion. Whenever I chat with her, or see her online, I am always reminded of the same quote: “A girl should be two things: classy and fabulous.” SugarCane is a woman who loves with such incredible passion that it ignites your heart to live its fullest. Her beauty flows from the very depths of who she is. She, too, dares to change-it-up in the years of life when others are slowing down. She’s pursued her dreams with wild abandon, she’s celebrated and supported her husband and their (amazing) son. She’s come along at all the best and worst times, sending me messages and reminding me that the flame of life burns so steadily, so deeply inside that even on our darkest of days, within us a pheonix of fire is alive and ready to burst forth.
SugarCane, I adore you. This woman holds something sacred of my heart. She holds everything of passion.

The Fairy Warrior and Hip-Check Cinderella are  two incredibly positive, strong and amazing young women who I’m delighted to call my friends. James and I were driving along last week and he said, about them, “don’t you think it’s awesome that you are related to two of the best women you know?” I couldn’t have said it more. I love spending time with them, even when it’s scrubbing toilets (Cinderella, you are the most gorgeous chambermaid ever!). Every book I’ve published (and some I haven’t) has been read, aloud to the two of them, cozied up under blankets together. They know my characters even better than I, sometimes. Our talks, Fairy Warrior, about women and dignity, about feminism and God and the ferocious way we both defend the beauty of womanhood in all its freedoms are among my favourites. I don’t think I laugh as hard, or as often, with anyone in this world as I do you (except with James. But he’s not a girl…so…) I love you both. These women hold something sacred of my heart. They hold my deepest love and affection.

The Writer With A Heart of Gold If I had to give a medal to any of my friends and the criteria was goodness, kindness, tenderness, strength, encouragement and beauty, I’d award it to Susan Henderson. She’s the only one of my friends I’ll call out by name, largely because I want to direct each and every one of you to buy and read her book. Susan is a woman that I admire and respect in every possible and imaginable way. She is fair. She is loyal and loving. She is truthful and honest, and she is absolutely about the betterment of everyone around her. She loves and supports her friends, her amazing family, and the literary community like no one I know. She is the champion of encouragement and simple joys. When I think of things of beauty and grace, I think of Susan. I love this woman, and if I won a million dollars, I would spend a gazillion of it sending her somewhere lovely. This woman holds something sacred of my heart. She holds my unending trust.

The Prophet Horsewoman I recently wrote to this friend for her birthday, sharing with her that I am so blessed by the things she shares on her blog, not only, but the way in which she shares herself, her family and all their time/resources with those in need. Her faith is fervent and strong. Her love of truth is deep and flows within her heart. And while she isn’t fearless, she meets the world with her chin up and heart forward. She’s stepped in to life for me in places where I couldn’t, and she’s written me notes of encouragement, given me photographs she’s taken, and offered up her friendship and support. Time and the ways that busy-ness steal it away often keep us apart, but I can honestly say, our visits strengthen me, and help set my heart back on track. I love this rambling country woman. She is beautiful and one of the pillars of strength in my life, not only, but in the life of so many. This woman holds something sacred of my heart. She holds my respect.

The Brit There was once a day when I think both of us would rather do anything but be one another’s friend. But I can honestly say that at this point in time, there is not one person who encourages me more about my writing than my friend The Brit. We have been through so many things together—wars of the heart, wars of the faith and of standing up against, and for one another. We’ve wept together. We’ve screamed at one another, slammed doors, threw hissy fits and dirty looks. We’ve laughed together. We’ve stood up for one another. We have shared parenting woes and joys. We used to eat magnificent things that have zero calories on Sunday evenings. We become friends. We’ve grown together. Without comparison. Without challenge or whispers or measuring tapes. We became part of one another’s hearts—maybe like sisters, a lot like friends. Treasured things of the heart exist between us; things that are truly borne and stitched in grace and love.  This woman holds something sacred of my heart. She holds the best and worst of who I am.

The Watchman When describing my relationship with this woman, I found myself saying “there are, in my life, certain people who, regardless of what’s going on, I know I can trust. I can reach out and know that their view is clear, their aim precise and that their love for me will never cloud their love of what’s true—she is one of them. She’s one of four watchmen on my gates, so to speak. I need her.”
If you know me at all, you know that the words “I need you…” have very rarely crossed my lips. If you’ve heard me say them, it means you held, in your hands, the most unsheathed areas of my heart.

This woman holds something sacred of my heart. She holds my vulnerability.

The Hand in the Darkness
Lastly, but by no means least, is The Hand in the Darkness. This woman has, during the last year of my life, created for me a space where I could, without shame or fear, completely unravel myself. I have laid before her my every fear, my every hope and dream and tenderness of my being. She knows me, not only, but encourages me to know myself. She’s taught me so much about belonging to myself, first and foremost. She’s championed my dreams and holds out the brightest light in my days of darkness. She cheers me on by reminding me, always, that I have within me everything that I need in life. She laughs and loves all of the weirdness of who I am. She’s been mother and friend and could seriously kick my ass. In what was truly among the hardest periods of my life, she carved away a piece of her world so that I could find refuge there. This woman holds something sacred of my heart. She holds influence where no one else does.
And I love her. Dearly.

I know this has been long, and perhaps I’m the only one who will have read it through. What I know, more than ever, is that I am not alone. I have great men in my life. I have a wonderful son, whom I adore. I work with amazing guys and also some incredibly strong and beautiful women.
And I am, at this point in life, in both an isolated space, but on the horizon of my world, there is a circle of fierce and beautiful women.
Women who defy stereotypes, refuse to be defined by limitations and who reject, from the most traditional to the most wildly passionate, anything but the freedom to be who they are.

I love you all.
xoxoxj