Are you a lover or a fighter?
Well, I guess I’m a little bit of both. I’m half Italian and half Irish, so waddya gonna do?! I get passionate and I also get pissed. Somebody told me that means I’m “compissionate”. Ha! Sounds about right.
But if you really knew my story, you might understand the value of being both a lover and a fighter.
Here’s the Irish in me: I have an appreciation for fighting. I’m comfortable around a gruesome fight; secure amidst the gritty shadows and hellish valleys. I love 300, Braveheart and Gladiator and I promise its not just because of Gerard Butler.
But here’s the Italian in me, (and the most dominant): I am sensitive to keeping the focus of a fight on the goal, the prize, the thing we are actually fighting for. I love The Holiday, The Notebook and Dirty Dancing.
Love. Hope. Joy. Unity.
I believe these are worth fighting for.
I have also fought for life in the face of cancer. My daughter was the victim of its diagnosis, but I stepped into the ring with her, to fight alongside her, because that’s what love does.
Love gets dirty. Love can be rough and tumble. Love is fierce.
So, I do love a good fight, however, I have also learned how to fight well. I know what it takes to keep a marriage alive, a family thriving and hope anchored. I know how to prep for stepping into the ring for a friend and I delight in an invitation to join alliances with other great fighters.
Maybe this is why the whole Wonder Woman theme after all. Maybe I love her so much because she is both glamorous and gallant, cute and courageous, bootylicious and brave.
Maybe she is just a bit like me, a lover and a fighter.