Part 3 – The Inner Tutu and The Boycott!
This blog is part three of my inner tutu wholehearted living story…. In retrospect, the boycott has become an honour. It has sparked a fire in me that has reminded me of who I am and that I will fight for that right to live wholeheartedly for all the things I stand for. More importantly for all the lessons I want to teach my children.
As Robin Sharma has shared in his teachings.. “critics don’t come out to play when you are doing average work, they come out when you are approaching mastery and doing great work”
So I know the older I get, the bolder I get, the louder I get, the more criticism I will face – but then that’s how I’ll know I’m achieving something magnificent.
Recently I watched this Brene Brown video on “Why the critics aren’t the ones who count” – Watch this!
The boycott started about questions about photo of women in construction. The conversation very quickly became about pink and some ridiculous woman who wears a tutu in pink work boots. It included women questioning this chick’s skill in the trades. It included women attacking a successful woman – a construction worker from Saskatchewan. Criticism on steroids.
My main concern became, wow with all the good that I aim for and the intent in my daily actions, isn’t there a better cause to fight? And if you read some of the emails, I’m blessed to receive, you might feel like a putz.
The truth is I wanted work boots that fit and were pink. Plain and simple. I thought that if I looked like myself, we could all get over the fact that I was a woman in the room with hammer, then we could get to work. And yes, I can build shit, did receive a scholarship from my women in skilled trades program but more importantly I built a magical Harry Potter dressing room for my daughter, a train table for my son and a family room in my basement that my best friends and family enjoy till 4:30am on party nights.
Despite the very few critics, there are way, way, WAY huge amounts of women and men who encourage me. Beyond my wildest dreams, women email me photos of themselves in our footwear, they tell me stories about how I gave them the courage to follow their dreams, whether it’s with a hammer, ipad or blender. This gift is invaluable and I’m full of gratitude that women have taken the time to share their stories with me. I am daily filled with tears of gratitude – quite honestly I wonder if I’ve already achieved the goals that are important and can’t imagine what else there is. (but then I find another dream and another idea)
I have re-mortgaged my home, sacrificed time away from my family, faced the dragons and lost my ego the day I put on that pink dress with pink work boots. Many women have worn their husbands work boots for an entire career. Women have told me what they need, want, love and hate. Isn’t that the wonderful thing about women, they are fearlessly opinionated and their desires are endless.
Thanks to Andrea Gordon from the Toronto Star for “getting it” and sharing it with the thousands of readers who frequent the business section. I’ve never been stronger in my mind, heart and soul since I owned my true wholehearted self. I am a woman, a wife, brilliant, strong and I can build S#!t! And for those that hate pink, I will share, I’m not a big fan of green – it’s really not in my colour wheel, I’m never green with envy and although it’s the colour of money – Canadian money comes in many colours so big freak’n deal – still not a fan of green.
One woman stated that she wears mens’ work boots to blend in. We’ve sold thousands of pink work boots, not one thousand or two thousand – we’re in the tens…. I was disheartened that the very women I’m working to keep safe and happy on the inside were criticizing me for doing so. I would never criticize how anyone earns a living. If “blending” in helps one cope – I support that too. It is tough out there and I don’t take it lightly but I also won’t whisper. I will scream, shout and kick in my pink work boots that I am here until you see me. And that is where the difference is made. Progress is not made with whispers, it is made with roars.
So I am honoured to have been boycotted for the colour pink, dancing in my tutu with my daughter and showing my children how to find their own moxie. Moxie is the ability to face fear with spirit and courage. Women are miraculous, I intend to celebrate it! We can make humans, swing a hammer, lead a team, run a board meeting or bake a cake. If you don’t think that’s something to celebrate, you are not living and you really need to find your own moxie… I dare you!
