Visionary Women: A Simple Hello To You Too

Soaring AmbitionsAmongst visionary women

The Simple Hello To You Too.
Imagine what we’d achieve united, if we put our differences aside. Imagine how much closer we would feel if we put our hearts on the table and exposed our vulnerabilities. Imagine if we saw our differences as opportunities to access the cry for help in the world around us and actually do something about it.

Imagine if we listened to one another, instead of belittling each other’s existence for the benefit of our ego and social standing. Imagine we looked up from our SmartPhones and said hello, no matter what the colour, the race or attire of the other. Imagine we asked if we were ok, you have no idea how  a simple question  could buy a person an extra day.

“Please hear me out, your a woman and every other girl before you has brushed me off, don’t walk away, please I beg you.” I had no idea where she popped out from as I exited the bus in Shoreditch in London but she was hysterical.

“Sure, but you must walk and talk with me. What’s up?”

“I have nothing, not a single penny and I need to get to my mum’s house in Fulham or I’ll be on the street tonight.”

She was was a few years younger than me, not drunk or high, just in a pickle. I looked her up and down, and then around. Nothing, no tribe to jump me.

“How much do you need?” I ask her.

“I only need three pounds miss, for the bus.”

Three pounds would never break my account but I wanted to know more about her.

“I’ll sort you out tonight but you’re going to sit, have a drink with me first and tell me what is really going on. Just chill out for a second.” I reassured her.

We’d go on to have a conversation about abusive partners and the lifelong effects it has on young women. We understood one another in such depth, I secretly cried myself to sleep that night and never repeated the story I’d heard. I never told anyone I was with her either. I put her in a cab, gave her Fifty Pounds along with my personal business card and woke to a message that read, “Adriana, thank you.  If I didn’t meet you last night, I was going to suicide.”

The night before I left for London, late January 2014, I wanted to email Charlotte Dawson to tell her she was a fantastic role model for the broken spirit and I hoped to God she’d fight for her light every single day. She never received this message because I had no way of contacting her directly, stupidly failing to remember a few of her closest friends were my friends on Facebook. I’d seen her out and about many times back when I was fashion styling, usually at her favourite store, Cosmopolitan Shoes in Double Bay. She was also a regular face at Sienna’s in Woolloomooloo, I often noticed her as I picked up my morning coffee. I never wanted to burden her with a quick chat, so I always smiled and carried on with my day. We were practically neighbours.  I was in Barcelona when I saw the Tweet at 7am, my alarm was set for 11am. I couldn’t sleep any further. Completely paralysed about her suicide, I stared at the ceiling and then at her final Instagram picture, the message was clear, ‘You never really know.’

Yes, we all want to give up our daydreams for various reasons but we shouldn’t. I do, at least ten times a day and look where I am now, living my dream. I feel defeated on a daily basis. The self doubt still creeps in. I think about how simple my life would be if I caved into my Big Fat Jewish Wedding and morphed into the woman my parents expect me to be but I must sort my life out on my own first. I look at my inbox filled with work opportunities and sore stories and I soldier on. I meet people like Anna Palmer of Anna’s Friends share their selfless vision at Bluebird after one hour and I see a goodness to soldier on. I Skype with my closest friends from all over the world and they remind me to soldier on.

These days, it is quite easy to get away with living the perfect lie but you’re fooling no one but yourself. We’re so focused on perfecting the illusion that all is well, while we are tenaciously searching for more within ourselves, picking up the pieces that should already be placed along the way. We are not desensitised by vulnerability, we are brought closer by it. Vulnerability should not be seen as a weakness. As women we’re forced to ‘have it all’ and ‘all together’ by a certain age. My number was 28. My world fell apart at 26.  It is quite easy to get carried away in side streets of ego, materialism and chaos but is it all really worth it? I’ve never owned a pair of Louboutin’s that made me happier past their first parade.

I’ve turned my back on everything I’ve ever known in a pursuit of happiness involving no plan or direction, just an open heart and mind. A year long holiday from my hell, if I want to extend, I will. I’ve even forgiven the perpetrators of my disappointment with humanity and moved on with a stronger spirit. I’ve taken this year off to deliberately silence my soul, to rediscover what will define me, enlighten me and carry me through to tomorrow.

Together, I hope we can redefine what it is to be a woman. We need to let go of this competition and be the pioneers of the future we hope for our daughters. I don’t care about who you are or what you do, I care about what’s inside your heart when a woman beside you cries for help.

“The average person tells four lies a day or 1460 a year; a total of 87,600 by the age of 60.  And the most common lie is: I’m Fine.” 




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