Honesty Makes Me Feel Less Alone

Liz.

Liz.

Brittany here.

Sometimes, when people ask "Why are you doing this project? Why The Wild Morning?" I really think about it. Hard. Partially because I love the stories and the women and the true mess behind this so dang much, I feel it in my bones to pay the project the most proper of homage.

Well, we came up with The Wild Morning because Dave was intrigued by the morning hour; that flicker of vulnerability in the morning light. And I wanted to do a project about women, a project that told their story in a way it hadn't been told before.

But there's more. There's so much more. 

We recently met with a woman and she ushered us in, immediately offering coffee. She was instantly accommodating, warm like a deep sigh. You know when you meet those people that make the walls fall down instantly? She was that person. I didn't feel weird for being in her space. I felt like I needed to be there admiring her coffee mug offering (Drake Tears mug, Good Morning Asshole mug, and Practice Safe Sax mug). After coffee, we told her to go back to whatever she was doing before we arrived. She fell horizontal back in bed, 

"Normally right now...it's 7:45 and I'd be like 'god damnit.' Scrolling through Twitter and realizing our lives are a dumpster fire."

I could only see the light of her face from Twitter mentions and remained quiet with the shutter of Dave's camera. Once she got up to get ready, we settled into lazy chatter. And I love, love lazy chatter. Have you ever had the opposite? Quick and mundane conversing? I find it horrendous. This was everything and more than that.

"I'm going to see Jackie. It's one of the most underrated things we have in our lives. Going to movies alone."

To say I instantly and casually loved her, was a slight understatement. She was wonderful on key; adoring on instant. We talked more and more and watched her put on lipstick and mascara. What was she reading? How are you different from now, compared to five years ago? Where have you recently sensed a different type of wonder? Is there somewhere you've 'felt' something else?

She told us about how she was a self aware introvert; how high school was hard because she was quiet and quiet women are often labeled as a bitch, which isn't the best for someone who cares astronomically about what people think. "The ramifications of women who are quiet in this world..." she said, "they're not the best. I very much have to reserve energy and prepare for things."

We asked her what she would do if she had the time. "I don't think...this is such a loaded answer. I don't think time is really...a road block in terms of I would want to do more creative stuff. I can always find an excuse to not start something just because...I really need to stop giving a shit about what people think. I'm always scared there's going to be this backlash of...actually women not liking what I do. I really couldn't give a shit about what men think."

And, like every women we meet, I felt that connection again and again and again and fifty more times and all over my skin hairs. She was honest. While she put on makeup, she gave us everything she had at that very moment: every busting and fancy flaw, every anti-climatical worry, every careful tendency. And I loved her! I think I loved her!

Her honesty made me feel less alone. And I loved her for that. She was a woman I knew softly (only over coffee in her 'practice safe sax cup' and the occasional run in on social media). But, I loved her. Love comes in many weird-as-hell forms and I'm happy to say I love women that are honest and themselves. Because that shit takes bravery and self-understanding and the delicate conversation to prove you adore yourself for it.

That's what we want The Wild Morning to accomplish. That's why we started The Wild Morning. We want one women's honesty to make all women feel less alone. 

Because my god, we are in this together.

 

david puente