How Being a Riding Girl has set me Free

Are you a woman who paints her toenails in summer so your feet look pretty in those strappy sandals? Are you wearing that wire jabbing brazier with the too tight elastic so that everything stays in place when you wear the sundress? Or do you go to extremes to find the sticky stuff dancers use to keep their costume in place so you won’t have a wardrobe malfunction? If this sounds like you and you are wondering what the big deal is, you are not a motorcycle enthusiast.

When I was a teen, (long long ago) it was fashionable to wear your eyebrows in pencil thin fashion. White lipstick (gasp) was in vogue and let’s not forget those go-go boots. You weren’t cool if the hair didn’t hang long and straight as a pin and your legs better look great in those hot pants too. And while the short shorts were mandatory, if you put on a pair of denim jeans, make sure they cover your shoes, and for goodness sake don’t wear white socks!

I have never been the “girly girl” type. Oh sure, I (once upon a time) could put on a few of the requisite outfits and look the part. I even painted my nails, plucked my brows and cared if my hair was mussed. Then I got on a motorcycle. Helmet hair is expected, and the only padding I need is at elbows and knees. No one cares if my toenails are painted, and makeup is optional. I like that the only thing I need to keep stuff in place is Velcro.

When you see me riding by with the wide smile of my face, (no grin as that lets the bugs in) it isn’t just the wind therapy for the spirit that’s affecting my soul, but the freedom from all the trappings that hold women hostage. Keep your hair spray, ribbons and bows; I’m off riding with the wind in my face and the sun on my back. No one cares if my jacket is the latest style, if my gloves are soft calves leather, or if my boots make my feet look petite. Least of all, me; as I have been set free.