Some would say life was gentler then. But was it?
Milllions of women were sure their self-worth was tied to taking care of others. Not a bad thing, really, but what about their dreams, their desires, their needs? Then the middle sixties hit. We had the sexual revolution, the power of the peace movement and the dreams of the civil rights movement. Slowly we moved into the feminine self-affirmation movement.
Women of a younger age are more prone to draw attention to their strong points. Yay them! When I hear my granddaughter say, "I can't wait for college next year. I shall shine bright like the stars," I want to stand up and applaude. "Go, Sugar Dumplin'!"
Yet a strong self-esteem is not merely for the young, it should be for us, too. We--you and me of various ages--deserve to feel good about ourselves. About our achievements, dreams attained, goals earned. And why not? Did we not work for those things? Allow your self-esteem to germinate, to grow, to bloom.
In my novella, Those Violet Eyes, Evie is hiding behind her dream of going to college to become a teacher. Win, the new man in her life, is encouraging her to make her dream come true. But, as so often with dreams denied, the excuses are often stronger than the dream. --
Win evidently saw her determined features. He shook his head a couple times and clicked his tongue for Blaze to approach her. When his horse stopped beside hers, he glanced across the pond, watching the birds—or waiting. Damn him.
Well, she could wait, too.
She slipped a foot out of her stirrup and slung it across her saddle. Leather creaked. A bullfrog plopped into the water. Silent minutes clanged by, growing louder with each tick of some unseen clock.
“Never took you for a coward, kitten. Not with all that attitude you’ve got.” Win slid his gaze to her, his hazel eyes growing hard. “Or was that all bluster to hide a scared little girl.”
Before she thought it through, Evie slid off Molly Mae. “You come down here and say that to my face, Win Fairchild, you overbearing, pushy jerk. I’ll slap your ears so hard, they’ll make a jam sandwich. Two floppy ears jammed together, you no-brained idiot. What gives you the right to push at me like this?”
Win slipped off Blaze, all ease and grace. In a flurry of movement, he grabbed her arms and hauled her to him. “What do you want out of life, Evie? Do you want to rot away on the Double-Bar working for Dooley? Or do you want to go after your dreams?”
“Some dreams are just that—dreams.” Didn’t he understand?
Win nodded. “True. I have a dream of going back to the Corps, but it won’t happen, not with my hearing loss and amputation. I have to accept it as an unrealistic dream. I also have a dream of helping kids who’ve lost limbs to accidents or diseases. It’s going to take some work and sacrifice on my part, but I aim to do it. Got a new dream, too.” His voice grew softer and he ran his knuckles down her cheek, his gaze intent on hers.
Don’t ask.
Available June 27th from The Wild Rose Press
