Powerful Example of Womanhood - Contest Entry 'WomanPower'

This is the story of one of the most amazing women I know. She is the epitome of strength, love, perseverance, bravery, wit and grace. Dealt a rough hand at an early age, she is a true heroin in life. Never the victim, always in control of her own destiny, taking huge leaps into creating a better life. She is, to me, the very definition of woman

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The Contest Purpose

I tell her story thanks to this amazing contest created by @sfp-cebu. The contest was created to not only support March being the month of the woman, but more importantly to support a truly amazing woman doing great things. In the original contest post she writes:

Our Goal For This Contest
The goal of the #WomanPower contest is to help a dear friend -- a woman -- who has single-handedly conquered the odds to help and nurture street kids in her city through her brainchild project called The Lugaw Project.

I really do hope you stop to read the original post. But if not, please take the time to view this video for an inspiring look at The Lugaw Project. If you don't participate in the contest, I'd encourage you to donate some SBD. An amazing woman is doing amazing work.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=138&v=L1VXpKZcngk

The Story of Cherilyn

The Early Years

I first met Cherilyn in junior high. I can't really recall how, exactly. We had no classes together, she didn't play on any of my sports teams, we shared no extra-curricular activities at school. I think it was just that pack mentality of 12-13 year old girls. We shared some common friends, and so there it was; we were friends.

We were very similar in that we weren't much like the other girls. Being popular really wasn't a concern of ours. We both had friends in various cliques but never really had a core clique of our own. Yet not oddballs either. It was like we were on the outside of the circle looking in, but on the edge of the circle. Close enough to fit in, outside enough to separate ourselves.

She was a sweet girl with long thick black hair and pretty green eyes. Yet always quiet and maybe just a little bit sad. As if at only 12 she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. It's not something we ever discussed. It was junior high. Our deepest conversations were about secret crushes and pimples.

By the time high school had come along we were pretty close. Spending most weekends together, and we'd spend hours on the phone each night talking about all-the-things. This is when I started to learn more about her home life. We were so alike in almost every way, yet lived totally different lives. I was living in a 3400 sq ft newly built home with both my parents, my brother and my grandmother. She lived in a 2 bedroom apartment with her mom and younger sister, in a fairly questionable part of town.

Her mom worked as a postal carrier, so was gone during the day. My mom was a stay at home mom. We'd ditch school and hang out at her apartment because nobody was ever home. As a rebellious teen that was a nice perk. I thought she was so lucky. No parents in her business 24/7 like mine. It was obvious to me they struggled financially, but I'll never forget the day I learned how they were really living.

We'd decided at lunch time we didn't feel like going back to school. This happened often in 1990; the year I got my driver's license. We were both good students, but you know how it is when you're young with a little bit of freedom. You test the boundaries. We were giggling about something and running into the house from the car to not be seen. As she unlocked and swung open the door she stopped in her tracks. She tried to shield me from coming inside, but was too slow, as I was still running and not really paying attention. We walked into the tiny, unusually unkempt, apartment to find her mom and two men passed out and naked on the couch with an unfinished line of cocaine on the coffee table.

We turned around and went back to school.

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A few weeks later we were at her house again one day after school. Her little sister was home alone, she was 9 years old at the time. But that was commonplace. She spent an hour or so at home alone until Cherilyn could get home from school to watch her. When we walked in the door her sister (Beth) was burning some papers with the gas stove. She'd get it lit, let it burn until her fingers were too warm and then threw it in the sink. It seemed dangerous to me, but Cherilyn didn't say anything to her. When I asked later, she explained that that's actually something she had taught her sister to do.

She was burning an invitation to the school play. They routinely destroyed any parent letter detailing any event or parent in-school requirement in fear she might show up.

They didn't know their fathers. They had grandparents across the country in the upper peninsula of Michigan. They were all each other had. And they took care of each other like nothing I've ever seen before.

Mom was trying and had bits and pieces of sobriety over the years. The summer before our junior year mom had recognized that it was not in the best interest of the family for her to have access to money. So Cherilyn took over the family finances. She made sure the rent was paid and there was food on the table. She was 16. It was maybe the 3rd or 4th month into her responsibility as head of the household that we stopped into the local gas station to buy a $2 money order. Made out to the local animal shelter. That was all they had left over that month, and they'd decided to donate it. Some months it was $10 but often times it was only a dollar or two. Money that a lot of people consider nothing, and throw away without notice. Every single month we got that money order and donated to their preferred charity. They had nothing yet still found a way to give to a cause they felt strongly about.

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Life After School

Although she was very bright and had goals for herself, college wasn't on the docket. She went to work immediately after high school at the US Post Office. I should mention that she worked retail jobs all through high school. Still raised her mom and sister, still kept up her grades, and still made time for fun all the while doing 30 hours a week at minimum wage. The post office was a huge break for her. Good money, plenty of over time; her plan was to pass the Civil Service exam which pretty much means the US government will guarantee you a job forever. She was on her own path.

Within the first year she met her first real serious boyfriend. He was handsome. Like panty-dropping handsome. Dark hair and bright blue eyes. Rode a motorcycle and played in a band. They had similar interests, and like her, he cared for his two younger sisters (twins). They both worked hard, and saved enough for their dream house in Michigan. There, they had tons of land and she started her dream of training and competing in dog obedience. She got herself her first Newfoundland and quickly rose right to the top in the breed. From the outside looking in her life seemed to have become perfect in such a short amount of time. Mom was doing well, sister was living with mom and thriving. She was living her best life.

But she wasn't...

It was a classic domestic abuse example. Step 1: isolate. Not only did he move her away from her friends and family (in a way that she was convinced it was what she wanted to) but he moved her to a very isolated part of the country. Their town in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan was home to 600 people. It started out vivid jealousy. Not allowing her to travel for dog shows alone, asking questions about the men involved in the sport. Following her around at work, questioning any conversation with a male co-worker. It progressed into verbal abuse, and then the wretched and unfortunately often inevitable physical abuse. She left him. Didn't take things or money. Packed her clothes, grabbed her dogs, got in the car and never looked back. Never asked for help, never acted the victim. Called it a life lesson and set out in Wisconsin to create a new and independent life for herself.

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Thirty-Something

This was her time to just be herself. Job transfers are reasonably easy to get for her, so she started her new life in Wisconsin with a job. She bought a beautiful house with plenty of yard. She built a training building on her property and soon became the first ever Newfoundland to earn an AKC agility title. She competed nationally at a high level.

She moved to night shift for extra money, and over the years paid off all her debt. Never having done something for herself given her childhood and controlling marriage, she celebrated by buying herself a cute little sports car. Slightly used and paid cash.

She began to physically train herself. Became very active in a Crossfit gym. She started doing long distance running.

Around age 38 we met up for lunch. Life had brought me to the Midwest as well so we'd been living just 3 hours away from each other. But with her night shift schedule and my budding career our time together was limited.

The conversation at lunch that day, I'll never forget

We were small talking and catching up and reminiscing while enjoying a few drinks. She suddenly got pretty serious. Said she had something to tell me. Something to confess...

I told her she could tell me anything, and I meant it. Expecting something deep or huge. She goes on to tell me that in the 11th grade she borrowed a sweater from me and never returned it. I laughed. She was somber. She then goes on to say that she did it on purpose. She asked to borrow it because she really wanted to steal it. And that had been bothering her all these years. 20 years ago she took a sweater out of my closet that I never noticed and certainly never would have cared. And it had been eating her up all this time.

That led to a discussion about our differences growing up and the paths our lives had taken. She envied me. I was unappreciative of my life at the time. I mean, I knew I had a good life, but at that age you just don't fully understand the gravity of the alternative. Once, we ditched school and went to the mall. As we're walking around killing time we hear from behind us "Ahem, oh girls". It was my mom. I rolled my eyes and complained as she dragged us back to school. She told me that day at lunch she was grateful that day. And jealous that I had the type of mom that would care enough.

We talked about going to her little apartment at lunchtime in high school. I didn't realize it then, fully, but that day at lunch I suddenly realized we would often eat our lunch from the food in their mostly bare pantry. Why? I had a home with an overflowing refrigerator and parents that gave me lunch money every day. We were saving my lunch money, eating her tuna, and then blowing my lunch money cruising around on the weekends. How could I allow that? Why didn't she ever speak up?

We were party girls, yet good girls. We talked about our group of girls going to keg parties at the Air Force base in town. Hindsight, wow we had no business being there. We'd drive out to the base, get high school wasted, and a lot of times spend the night there. It was always the two of us that behaved with boys. We'd flirt and get free drinks and get future invites to the base, but we always used our two person buddy system and found a bed for the two of us to share. We'd stay up all night talking about the future and what we wanted for ourselves. In the morning we'd have to walk around the barracks looking for our friends in guys' rooms.

We decided that day at lunch that we'd do something special for ourselves the year we turned 40. That was the year we ran a marathon together. (Ok, I only did the half marathon. She did the full)

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Life Begins at Forty

Mom is still healthy and sober. Little sister is married with two children. She's severed all ties and moved on completely from her marriage. She's ran a marathon, and trained several cream of the crop dogs. And now, she's ready for love. And she found it relatively quickly. He's a great guy with a kind soul. And before long (within months) they moved in together. Not too long after that they discovered she was pregnant. At 39 she delivered their baby.

He's a happy baby and a spitting image of his dad. She continues night shift to avoid day care. She would watch the baby during the day while he was at work, have 2 hours together at night, then he would babysit while she was at work all night.

She didn't give up an ounce of herself in this process

Cherilyn still found time to go for long runs and train dogs. She's an amazing mother. Kyle goes everywhere with her, on runs and plays with friends and dogs during dog training. She teaches him how to grow and prepare his own food. He's a dirty kid. Allowed to stomp in puddles and hunt frogs in the yard.

They bake together. They play legos and cars, but also dress up and dolls. She's raising her son to be true to himself. To love freely and without judgement. To give back to others that aren't as fortunate.

She is to me the very essence of what it means to be a woman. She is a care-giver without expecting anything in return. She is generous. She is kind. She makes amends. She understands the power of her body, yet never abuses it. She created life without giving up any of her own. She faced adversity with courage and grace. She is strong both physical and mentally. She learns from her past and creates her own future.

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