Instead of the world continuing to be entirely a man's, we and our sisters were told that we could re-make it into an entity in which we also had power.
And that we did. That was the 1970s. We were young. We were on the way to the top of corporations.
I made it to middle management in Corporate America. Not great. But later I opened my own communications boutique and things got interesting. Both men and women in business considered what I recommended as useful. And paid me well for that. I am still doing that.
But, it's now 2016. And more important than power is that soft stuff. Such as a sense of family. Like many females from the 1970s, I found myself aging. And without biological family. My parents and older sister are dead. My younger sister, Anne Murga-Ring, hasn't spoken to me since 2003. Neither has her son, Jonathan, who is my godson.
A life partner? That doesn't seem to be in the cards.
I used to wonder: Is there any human being whom I don't have to pay (like a therapist) to help me sort out the shock of aging? Who will really rejoice about my success of landing a big account in marketing communications? Who will be my advocate in the health care system when I am heading back to heaven? And do I have to contract with a lawyer to execute my will?
Now I know. Somehow I figured out that there can be a new sisterhood. The members of it are the females my age who have chosen to be in my life. One - Pat Price - lives a few blocks from me in Tucson, Arizona. Another - Kay Prezio - bunks in Baltimore, Maryland, but comes West now and then.
More sisters will be added, of course. Once we get the hang of how to put together the new family the process becomes self-replicating. It has its own unique voodoo.