The Three-Letter Word

 I was surprised to learn of Helen Gurley Brown's passing.   She seemed immortal somehow, didn't she?  She was an inspiration to a lot of women and a role model for me, especially in her last couple of decades—tango lessons in her 80's,  still working up until her death the other day, at 90. 

In hindsight, I regret not giving her due credit in Dancing on Mars, the "Notes from a Recovering Victorian" chapter.  Ms. Brown and Cosmopolitan certainly impacted this recovering Victorian—even though some articles were beyond my small-town level of sophistication.  But the revelations I found between the Cosmo covers were filed away somewhere in my brain or my Being.  They were "filed away" until needed for practical application or to help me feel better about myself as a woman.  Truth be told, the purpose served was most often the latter.  Having those pages affirm that s-e-x, in and of itself, wasn't "dirty" at all (as we often heard it depicted in jokes, in high school and beyond was huge.  Cosmo gave self-respecting women permission to say "sex" without apologizing, permission even to like it. 

Ms Helen, you will be gratefully remembered by a countless women AND men, who feel sexier because of you and your life's work.  You richly deserve peace, although the thought of you resting  is beyond my imagination.  Thank you for being the pioneer we needed all those years.