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| Avignon, France |
I met a woman - with my eyes only.
She was about 65 years old and beautiful. I was standing in line at a small market in Avignon. She was in front of me. She wore a light blue summer dress that fell just above her knees. Her shoulder bag had caught some of the dress and lifted it up around her thigh. Her thigh was very beautiful - sexy.
She was about 65 years old and beautiful. I was standing in line at a small market in Avignon. She was in front of me. She wore a light blue summer dress that fell just above her knees. Her shoulder bag had caught some of the dress and lifted it up around her thigh. Her thigh was very beautiful - sexy.
The children called to me from outside the store and the woman heard my English. She turned and smiled at me - our eyes met. I felt like she was saying, "Watch, this is how it is done. Allow yourself to be admired and graciously acknowledge it." It appeared to me that she invited the man to admire her. She didn't invite more, although she easily could have. She caught my eyes several times and smiled a woman to woman smile. I felt like we saw one another.
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| Not my photo - from internet |
When the man left the store his eyes followed the woman the entire way. It was not a rude stare, but one to say, I see you and you are beautiful (I'm sure he wouldn't have mined sex either - smile). And even though the woman's eyes did not follow the man out the door, I felt she knew she was being admired and she throughly enjoyed the exchange. She had an energy around her that we were all captivated by, even the store clerk.
I wished, in the brief moment before she got on her bike and rode off with her groceries, that I could have told her how graceful and beautiful she was. I could'nt form the sentences in french quick enough before she left.
I think this moment felt poignant to me because, when I was last in Europe as a 19 year old, I would have been offended by this type of exchange. I would have seen through eyes of righteous indignation. I was 19 and full of young American feminist pride. I didn't know or understand the soft femine power of being a woman. My young feminist power was very male. My attitude has shifted over the years - as it should. I see with so much more softness now, softness for myself and others. I feel as though I am standing more in my center - and it is a lovely place to be.
I wished, in the brief moment before she got on her bike and rode off with her groceries, that I could have told her how graceful and beautiful she was. I could'nt form the sentences in french quick enough before she left.
I think this moment felt poignant to me because, when I was last in Europe as a 19 year old, I would have been offended by this type of exchange. I would have seen through eyes of righteous indignation. I was 19 and full of young American feminist pride. I didn't know or understand the soft femine power of being a woman. My young feminist power was very male. My attitude has shifted over the years - as it should. I see with so much more softness now, softness for myself and others. I feel as though I am standing more in my center - and it is a lovely place to be.
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| Me - France 2012 |
6 comments:
You are a beautiful and amazing person Terry! I absolutely love reading what you have to say and see Italy through your eyes!!
beautifully described and written. Thanks. I was there!
I remember how angry you would get with hisses whistles and comments-I have one memory of you in Athens turning around and exploding at some group of old men because of their constant hissing at you. My long flaxen haired friend!
Jessy
I remember how angry you would get with hisses whistles and comments-I have one memory of you in Athens turning around and exploding at some group of old men because of their constant hissing at you. My long flaxen haired friend!
Jessy
Yes, I remember that well Jessy. I also remember them then acting like I was the one who had bothered them. I was furious. Laughing at the memories!
Oh Terry, this is so beautiful. As we grow older we lose the sensual awareness of yourselves and our society tends to admire only the young, which makes getting old even harder.
In Italy (and Europe), men appreciate all ages. This is as it should be. Women feel that their age is something to be admired.How right they are.
I feel better just listening to this story.
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