I was at a conference this week with young women from across the country, women who all own their own businesses and are all rewriting the rules of business.  Much of the content of the conference was focused on women’s health issues, women’s equality in the workplace and what the landscape will look like moving forward.  As I listened to the speakers, I was reminded that I have a story, you have a story, we all have stories that we should be telling our sons and daughters.  It is important for me to pass my story forward.

So that evening while I was having dinner with my daughter and we were talking about our day, I brought up the topics that had been discussed in the meetings.  We started a frank conversation about politics and women’s health and women’s rights, you know, some very light dinner banter!  It was probably one of the best discussions I have had with her for a long time.  And, I shared with her something that had happened to me when I was in my twenties, something that she didn’t know, and I saw her expression change.  For a moment we were just two women talking, not mom and daughter.  It was beyond a pivitol moment for us in my mind.

Let me assure you, my daughter knows that I am far from perfect: that ship sailed years ago.  And I didn’t tell her that I had ax murdered someone in the ‘70s.  But I think for her to know that I had had things happen to me that she could have happen to her, and how I handled it,  and that we have similar viewpoints on some of the most important issues of our times for women was important.  She certainly doesn’t have to agree with me all the time (but how great is it when she does?), but she is a thinking, rational, intelligent woman.  What more can I ask?

So, I plan to tell more of my story from here on out; to my daughter, my sons and anyone else who wants to hear it.  They won’t be able to shut me up!  Not because it is so fascinating, but because it is history no matter what you think of it.  It is the history of my family and of women in my age group.

My mother died when I was in my twenties.  We really didn’t get to talk much about what her life had been like when she was in high school, in college, when she met my dad, when she was a military wife.  I wish we had had more time.  And, I did talk with my grandmother often about what life was like for her because she and I were the only ones left and she didn’t die until she was nearly 100.

Help Women Around You

Do not let time go by.  Talk with the young women in your life about the issues that matter; about women’s health, about childcare issues, about equal pay.  Let them know what it was like in the olden days and by that I mean in the ‘50s, ‘60s, ‘70s.  Let them know what it looked like before we had the freedoms that we enjoy now, and let them know they can be taken away.  Telling your stories will strengthen the women around you.