Flying: Part II - What Happens to the Free Woman?

Last Thursday I went to the sequel to "Flying: Confessions of a Free Woman." Something had changed since the first piece. In Part I, our heroine was on a quest to find out how other women around the globe handled their femininity in their cultures. She traveled to Germany, South Africa, Pakistan, several places around the U.S. to discuss women's issues with her friends all around the world.

But in Part II, within the first thirty minutes of the film, our star began to sound whiny, co-dependent, and rather than to listen to what the women she was interviewing were telling her, she was moaning about her own life.

Her first visit was to a Russian woman's home whom she had befriended over the internet. It was clear that within a few days at this new friend's home she was such a downer, the new friend was doing whatever it took to encourge her to move on, move on with her life and move on from her home! The Russian host all but bought her a plane ticket to go visit her boyfriend in Zurich and even drove her to the airport personally.

She visited some Somalian women in England who taught her about "female circumcision" as they called it. They launched into full details about their experiences as young girls, how they felt about the tradition then and how they feel now and how it's changed their lives. They discussed their sexuality and their culture and their purpose in the world today.

The director then took us back to South Africa, to her friend's home in the mid-western United States who has been struggling as a single mom, and to various friend's homes in and around NYC.

Each woman had her story, her struggles, and often from a culture that we Americans find difficult to relate to .

The recurring theme, however, was how the leading lady, the successful New York City film director Jennifer Fox, was struggling to have a baby at 44 years old. She'd already had two miscarriages, she was attempting the expensive IVF process, she was struggling with her Swiss boyfriend and her South African lover. She breaks up with the boyfriend to be with the lover (he finally leaves his wife), but then that doesn't actually work out ...surprise surprise. So then she is entirely manless. Sigh.

When my friend and I left the theater that night, we were a little disappointed and felt Jennifer missed the mark. Here women all over the world were really struggling. Their cultures often suppress them, they remain uneducated, abused or they simply just don't have choices. They would have given their left arm to have her life and yet all she could do was complain.

I was thinking about my own life. Eh hem. Right. I know I do tend to drone on about my petty issues: the lack of decent men in my life, my crap paying job, the Prozac and St John's wort inducing weather in this town, my tiny one bedroom apartment and transportationally challenged lifestyle. But the fact is, I wouldn't trade my life for a second (well, I might trade a few pieces...but not the whole thing!). I have chosen the way I live, which is one huge difference. I've had the nice home, the husband, the decent paying job, car, ski condo and Ann Taylor wardrobe. I walked away from it on my own two feet (heh heh...quite literally...as I'm still walking..to the bus stop in the rain!). And I'm happy with my choices. I'm happy I had the choices. I'm happy I still have choices, whether I choose to make them or choose to stay put. It's my choice.

After some discussions with my women friends these past few days, I'm convinced it is better to have the choices and be a little confused sometimes about making the "right" choice, than not to have choices at all.