On the Bright Side

I’ve always fondly referred to my closet as my “Room of My Own” and my copy of Virginia Woolf’s book is front and center on one of the shelves. My closet is full of my creative endeavors. Paintings on the walls, journals upon journals of songs and poetry, and even about a hundred pairs of rose colored glasses that I bought on a whim on my 40th birthday when I had dreams of starting RoseyShades, the “attitude accessory” company. It’s my Dream Cave. But recently when I was spring cleaning, I saw these pieces of me - really my favorite pieces - sitting dusty on the shelves, and it made me wonder if I was living my life ‘in the closet.’ Is my coveted Room of my Own, brimming over with creativity and dreams, actually a reflection my poverty of courage? Woolf lived in an era when women held considerably less legal and economic power, and were often ‘shackled’ to a life they did not choose. In response to a quip she’d heard from a Cambridge professor about women not having the intellig...