My short skirt

Two weeks ago I went out for a dinner downtown with a group of women working with women’s rights. I always enjoy these dinners because so many times I have heard stories from older women still fighting for their vision, encouraging the younger ones, giving life lessons but most of all showing girl power. For some of those older ladies, if I didn’t know their actual age, I would say that we are compeers. I admire their spirit, sense of humor, wisdom and free minded thinking. But something caught me by surprise…

While I was having conversation somebody call me by my name. I saw an old friend looking at me with happiness. I could not believe it - there was the lady who I met 7 years ago while working on a project for UNICEF. Back then she was one of the most respected coordinators in the office in Skopje. Devoted, hard working, professional . I liked her right away. But I could see some sorrow in her eyes, and it was really deep. She revealed how she lost her husband in a car crash a while ago and after that she was left with a 3 year old boy. She was grievous, breached from sorrow and she needed help. So, since I finished by obligations, I agreed to babysit her little boy. And so I did for 10 months. Everyday, after she was back from work she would give her son the biggest kiss , holding him for half an hour without blink. I know after her husband died that little boys was the world to her, but also that boy was the only man in her life. It was hard looking at her so closed into her inner world , disappointed , wearing black from tip to toe all the time . Now at this restaurant when I heard my name called I couldn’t even recognize her. She was glowing . She had pearly smile, fancy looks and very short skirt. Unbelievable transformation! I saw how she had a companionship and that made me even happier. She was one of those women who knew how to connect with herself and move on, believing in life after love and not doing right things for wrong reasons . Life itself is blessing after all, but we always act like the day is too short for us and we often forget how little things can bringing light into our life’s . I’m glad that she wasn’t holding the grievance forever like it seemed to me back then. There she was – one brave woman looking good in a short skirt.

But then I was hit by sudden surprise. I saw how some of the ladies on my table were looking at her with disapproval like she did some kind of crime. And what was even more ironic- this traditional thinking was coming from the younger ones. It was too cheap for me hearing them , and I couldn’t help my self not commenting on their gossips . Instead of answer on their judgment for my friend’s short skirt, I just told them about the play “My short skirt” at the 10th year celebration for V day in New Orleans, when it’s said: “My short skirt is not an invitation, a provocation , my short skirt has nothing to do with you , my short skirt is not proof that I’m stupid , undecided or malleable little girl. My short skirt is who I am and before you make me cover it or torn it down , get used to it .My short skirt is initiation, appreciation …but mainly my short skirt and everything underneath is MINE!!! “

I’m meeting my friend soon over a coffee and I sure hope she will wear her short skirt again.