First of all, it could’ve been the perimenopause. My husband refers to it as “The Pause.”
For example, if I’m having a particularly rough day and I scream my head off at what turns out to be nothing then start bawling and talking about what a horrible person I am and how awful my life is… then, 5 minutes later when I’ve regained semi-sane consciousness, I have to apologize for my bizarre actions of the past twenty or so minutes…
he will say, “That’s okay, honey. I know it’s just The Pause.”
So, it could’ve been that, mostly.
But… it was also… damn! It was also the way she marches straight toward the danger, the enemy. It was the way she is unstoppable. It was the way she is fearless. It was the way she is fierce. It was the way she is deadly. It was the way she will not be told what to do. It was the way she loves ice cream. It was the way she is fundamentally good. It was the way she kicks ass. It was the way she drinks beer. It was the way that she is the strongest ever. It was the way she is a god. It was the way she is ALL of these things but she is also 150% feminine.
I was going to say, “woman.” But not all women-identifying people are, or consider themselves, feminine. Wonder Woman is FEMININE. She has sculpted eyebrows; lithe muscles; a great rack (oh, don’t act like you didn’t notice – that’s impossible, they are sculpted into her silicone uniform); ridiculously long legs; long flowing hair; big pouty lips; (apparently) permanent perfectly-styled make-up; big doe-like eyes; and… OF COURSE… she wants to save the world with love.
In other words, she’s basically me.
A few moments ago, as my husband and I had roughly 3 minutes to spend together at the end of a busy day, when our children were finally sleeping, we briefly discussed our reactions to the film. I said, NOT in all seriousness, “didn’t she remind you of me?”
We BOTH busted up and LOLed. But really…
I think the reason she strikes such a strong chord in me is that she represents – on a grand, theatrical, metaphoric scale – what all women who refuse to have their asses kicked by the patriarchy actually go through every single day. We forge ahead. We push right through the bullshit. We have to move head-on into a world that has no idea how powerful we are. When we get knocked down, we have to get back up, every single time. We do not quit. And, despite all the bullshit we go through, and that we witness every person we love go through, we still love. We still have to believe in love. And we still fight for everything that we believe in because of love. And we have to believe that love can save the world.
And mostly, why I sobbed, like a tiny baby, as that insanely badass feminine superest of superheroes plowed across a field of bullets and grenades and straight-up missiles being hurled at her, is that being unapologetically weird, looks like this. Doing what is right -- or authentic to yourself -- instead of doing what you are told to do or being who you are told to be, looks like (and often feels like) walking into battle.
Keep walking into that battle, with love, Teamies. And, for goodness' sake, GO SEE WONDER WOMAN!!
p.p.s. My husband narrowly convinced me NOT to go back and see Wonder Woman for a second time in a row TONIGHT but I don’t think I’m going to make it through tomorrow without going again. Yep. THAT is the level of obsession we are talking about here people [it’s ALMOST better that Maleficent – I CAN’T BELIEVE I’m saying it – but, DAMMIT! It REALLY is!].