I am thankful and celebrating today.

I’m sitting on a knitting box. My neighbour’s overwhelmingly colourful, cluttered living room feels like a sweat box as I watch her pull her blankets tighter. Believe it or not, I’m smiling, ignoring the sweat gathering at my nape. Chatting, learning, eating cake and pretending to drink tea. Sounds less than marvelous to most I guess- but it is.

Inviting the women of my tiny street, my friends, family and a recovering client to spend some time together today was meant to be something special. Nothing fancy, just special. Most said yes. I baked for hours, collected prizes to raffle tonight for a local women’s refuge. Was so full of hope. Let’s have fun. Remember and give thanks for a long fight towards equality 100 years on. Forge new friendships. Deepen a sense of community and womanhood.

I am saddened yet smiling.

Still sitting on Mrs. Twick’s knitting box. Unable to drink the tea, she chastises me laughing that I “can’t possibly be a Brit” but there is diet lemonade under the kitchen table I am welcome to. I have garnered more love and strength with these seven, normal yet remarkable women through their oral histories and dreams than a houseful of people, too busy to take five minutes to be thankful. 

We as women, as a nation, and all of us as humans should be celebrating! This momentous anniversary deserves to be marked with joy and remembrance. Use your voice that people died for and please, keep smiling.