Shovels

by DANNIELLE LARKIN

My last two articles for the Utah Bee were difficult to write. They were intimate. Personal. The process opened me up to a treasure trove of vulnerabilities that I’d kept safely buried for many years. It reminded me that as women, we’re taught from childhood to always carry a shovel. To stand prepared to dig a hole and bury our unpleasant realities the instant they emerge. It’s better that way. Safer. More comfortable for everyone. It’s what good girls do.

Is this why writing personal stories feels so scary? A woman, standing alone, without her trusty shovel? If so, how do I, and other women who are ready to speak, ready to talk, ready to listen, ready to stand in solidarity for our right to JUST BE, withstand our own anxieties about doing so? I think the answer lies directly in the statement I made at the end of that first article.

I finished my last story making the pronouncement that it was time for us, as women, to speak up in defense of one another. Now, after weeks of thinking about what I really meant, I’ve come to the realization that I simply meant setting down our shovels.

Each of us was given our shovel, usually at a young age, by a well-meaning family member, or friend, or religious leader. Someone who wanted to protect us. Teach us to understand our role and our place in society. I personally find no fault in them. They were doing their best with the knowledge they had. Handing little girls shovels felt like the compassionate thing to do.

I don't know about you, but I’m tired of carrying my shovel. Its heavy. And all this digging and burying is making my back hurt. I’m ready for the freedom to live a life of imperfection. I’m ready to overcome the fear of being judged and shamed and demeaned for living a life that doesn’t fit into that perfectly pretty little box. I’m ready to stand in sisterly solidarity for our right as women to live our beautiful varied lives, however we wish. Enough with the ritualistic burial ground brimming with all that’s un-lady-like.

Let’s drop our shovels. Let’s stand up for ourselves and each other.

I have a challenge for you: consider something you have buried because you felt obligated to do so. What would you have done with this same thing if you felt free of the obligation?

Bonus: Come up with a craft project to repurpose all these shovels.