This question was posed to me earlier today. "What's her name?"
I sat there, wondering how I must have been unconscious or sleep walking the last few minutes before the question was asked because I had NO idea why this guy wanted to know the name of a woman I didn't realize I had been talking about.
The question was in response to all the roadblocks I had been putting up. See, I have this thing I need to share, but I keep coming up with reasons why I can't. Money. Technology. Support. Time. You name the excuse, I've used it.
"What's her name?"
All I could respond with was this intelligently crafted response:
He cracked a smile. Clearly, I'm not the first one to be stunned into silence with this inquiry from left field. He smoothly responded with a longer, more detailed question:
"What's the name of the woman that needs the information that you are holding back from her that will make her life better?"
I started picturing a woman sitting at her computer, searching the internet late at night, after she's fed her family, cleaned the kitchen, put the kids to bed, made her husband comfortable for the night, and still couldn't get herself to sleep because of the burning questions in her mind. She's looking for the solution to her problems. And I might have the answers.
But I'm not sharing them.
Because clearly, I'm a bitch.
Why wouldn't I help this woman to live a less stressful life? Or to show her (a-hole) husband that she CAN contribute? Or send her kids to private school? Or leave her shitty cubicle job because she just launched her new company?
Can I help women do that? Yes. I mean, I think so... but there's this nagging voice in my head that says I can't. Not only does the voice say I can't, it also says I'm going to make a complete ass out of myself if I even TRY!!! And when I do fail (because The Voice is sure I will), she is gonna laugh and laugh and laugh...
But I need to forget about that imaginary critic. I need to start imagining someone else.
"What's her name?"
Grace. I think I'm going to call her Grace.