American Woman, Set Me Free
by Jennifer Cooper
image by zelle duda for unsplash
The other day, I was chatting with my stylist about life. Apparently, I’m incapable of small talk. She’s in her 30s and I just adore her. I’ve watched her grow over the past 10 years as a business owner and artist.
I told her about what I was up to and she said, “How are your 40s? I feel like I’m going to finally come into my own then.”
And, because I’m generally an optimistic person, and because I acknowledge my personal experience isn’t necessarily a universal one, I said, “You know, I have definitely deepened.” What I didn’t tell her was this:
These have been some of the worst years of my life. I know I’m not alone in that, it seems everyone has been struggling.
If it wasn’t fighting with family and friends about vaccinations, or civil rights, or why you shouldn’t vote for a man who was accused of rape multiple times, it was the shut down; it’s raising kids who are afraid every day of their lives they’re going to get shot; it’s going to the movies, a grocery store, a mall and wondering if you’ll all get shot. It’s reading articles every day about another person killed because they were Black, pulled into the wrong driveway, or knocked on the wrong door.
It’s seeing billionaires dictate culture and politics and whether or not the stock market will crash again. It’s going to the grocery store, clipping coupons like your mom did even though you were told you’d have a chance at breaking the socio-economic barrier you were up against because you were the first in your family to graduate from college.
It’s seeing children have to speak up for their very existence, watching grown-ass adults who say they love and care for kids, act like fools over ridiculous things like whether or not a girl is a girl and if she can play on her middle school’s soccer team; once again, reducing a girls’ identity to her body. “We’ll need her menstruation records!”
It’s wanting to move out of the country, then sharing that with someone you feel safe with only to then have them tell you to check your privilege and that they’re staying here to fight. It’s realizing in that moment that everything in America is about fighting; we’ve been taught it’s the only way. And you wonder if it is.
It’s watching everyone tell you their ideas, their opinions: why you’re not doing enough, why you’re doing too much, why you should start a business, why your messaging is all wrong, why you need to hire people even though you have no income from your business in which you give everything away because one day someone will feel that they should pay you.
It’s trying out AI because you know it’ll eventually take your job and even the people who AI will replace say, “It'll make your job easier!” which feels like the kind of optimism that got us into this mess in the first place.
It’s like we’re living in Everything Everywhere All At Once. And yet, this isn’t a movie about empowerment or repairing relationships. This is a life that feels out of control.
I thought it’d be different.
At the midway point of this year, I will hit the midway point of my life. Actually, who am I kidding? If the average American lives to 73, I passed that point a decade ago.
Fighting is in my nature, by design and influence. I am American, after all, but, I’m tired now.
I wanted to create a space where we could do things differently. Where we could let go of some of the harmful messaging we received as young ones, lean into something that was emotionally healthier, have space to express ourselves, explore our desires, and hopefully build a small community we could lean on.
But it has been made clear that I am not the person to do it.
There are others who do it better than I ever could. People with more resources, more bandwidth, more…I don’t know, a different personality? A different look? One that is more aligned with whatever it is people on the internet or social media are looking for.
Whatever that “thing” is, I’m not equipped.
For the past two years, I have been looking for a full time job while juggling freelance work and publishing this website.
I hired a coach who rewrote my resume to show the skills I have obtained over the years, so that hopefully no one would notice that it was all entrepreneurial. I’ve had my illustrations in Times Square on JumboTrons, I’ve interviewed celebrities, I created a short series for a national network from nothing more than an idea, I grew a company founded by a mom and her two daughters sewing around a dining room table, into one that sold their products across the world.
I can’t even get an interview for jobs that I am more than qualified to do.
What I’m feeling is just exhaustion. And that I was never “enough.” But that’s the culture we live in. We are made to feel like we will never be enough.
I opened an issue of O Magazine to a piece written by a guy explaining which women’s swimsuits are best for different body types. I flip to another piece about skin care with an anti-aging serum featured. I flip a few pages more and read about the pro-aging movement.
Even our heroes send us confusing messages.
And none of this is anything anyone wants to read or hear, I know. You’re supposed to stay positive! Act as if you’re successful! Offer solutions because no one wants to hear you whine.
I have poured lots of money into this site. I won’t tell you how much because it’s embarrassing. I’ve tried everything the pros tell you to do: Guest Posts! Products! Fundraising! Courses!
And when I’ve failed at them, the pros say, “Yeah, you’re in a hard business.”
I can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.
Pleasure is a hard sell for Americans worried about their kids surviving the school day.
And while this site has been a lovely project, I guess it’s also been a vanity one. I mean I did name the thing after me, even though I really did think of it as an avatar.
Anyway, not sure if anyone has read this far, but if you have, thank you. The greatest gift we can offer each other is the gift of being seen and heard. Thank you for giving that to me.
I’m not sure what’s next for me, but I know things have to change. I’m not trying to set fire to a bridge, I just know that there’s really no coming back after being honest. Like I said, no one likes a whiner, even when we say we love authenticity.
In the meantime, please wish me luck. I have been blessed with a beautiful family, a supportive and adoring partner, so in many ways I’ve already won life.
Just not an “American” one.
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