I ditched my prince, then hit the waves.
I'm 46 and well into my second life. (I'm beginning to wonder how many I'll have.) My first life was a fairy tale. It unfolded much like my mom's and her mom's, and that of Cinderella. Though I didn't grow up with an evil stepmother and conniving stepsisters, I did come from humble beginnings and hoped one day to attend a ball, meet my prince, and live happily ever after.The happily ever after lasted ten years, until I was laid off three times in three years. A job in clothing design had led to graphic design, which led to trade show management. How had I gotten here? Was this my beautiful life? I didn't care about helping a smug CEO make six figures selling widgets that would end up in a landfill! I didn't care about a mortgage. Or rather, I was not willing to work 40+ hours a week at a job I hated for the sake of a house. I took unemployment checks and a photography class, and decided to return to school. I wanted to be a photographer. My life plan and my prince’s were beginning to diverge.
It was the most difficult decision I've ever made, but I knew I needed to be on my own. I divorced the prince. Just after I moved out (and was trying to stay upright as I weathered my self-induced tsunami), I learned to surf. Many of the women I met in the water were like me: they came to surfing later in life, and surfing had either instigated a monumental life change or helped them through one.
I adored the image of a female surfer. She was strong, graceful, self-directed, and playful. She was willing to throw herself into the unknown, and by so doing, emerge refreshed. For the next ten years I traveled–up and down the California coast, to Hawaii, New York City, Cape Cod, Narragansett, Mexico, Brazil, France and Spain–and took pictures of the women I met, aged 10 to 50. I asked them why they surfed and how it helped them. Now I'm putting their stories and mine in a book. I wrote it with my nieces in mind, but it's really for all women. It's a modern day fairy tale–not like any I read as a young maiden, but with a happy ending, nonetheless.



