To all of the gentlemen out there, particularly my husband.

Unless you've been living in a cave since Saturday night, more than likely you've seen/heard about the whole Miley Cyrus debacle at this year's VMA's. I'll be the first to admit that I lost interest in the VMA's long ago, as I have completely lost touch with most of music pop culture. I am old and uncool.

However, with all of the talk on social media these days, I learned of this provocative showing fairly quickly, and had to check it out for myself. The truth is I wasn't entertained. I wasn't shocked, or surprised. I just felt sad. I felt sad for this lost young woman who so desperately is trying to escape an image she has convinced herself was forced upon her. Now, I won't say I haven't fallen victim to the various fruits that have come from that tree since Sunday. Memes, articles, blogs, all of it. I've read it all. But now here's my take on the whole thing.

Miley, I don't know what is making you think you have to do this. I don't know who is convincing you that this is the way you behave and look to get attention and be taken seriously, but I am so thankful that I've never felt the need to do that myself. Now, of course a lot of that has come from the incredibly strong women in my life. My mother, my sisters, my dearest friends. But to all of the men that I rarely acknowledge, I'd like to thank the following people:

First, my dad. For being a provider, strong and silent, and for showing me that true love means reading the paper together every morning, and never running out of things to talk about.

Next, my father in law. Who loves his children with all of his heart, openly and unabashed.

Next, my brother. For always having my back, and trusting me to have the confidence I needed to command the respect that I deserved. And for learning to share a bathroom with four growing women. Bless your heart.

Next, to all of my male friends growing up. You treated me with respect, as an equal and as a friend. You made it easy for me to feel comfortable in mixed company, and really learn to be myself. Goofiness and all.

And finally, to my husband. My biggest fan, the love of my life, and, to use a horrible cliche, my rock. You are patient, respectful, loving and kind. You are smart, and selfless, and compassionate. You fell in love with me at a time when I didn't even love myself. You kept me close even when I pushed you away, convinced I didn't deserve to be happy. You gave me a roof, a ring, and a beautiful daughter, everything you had ever promised to me. You love me in my glasses, no makeup and unshowered, in pajama pants and an old tank top with a cold and a grouchy face.

I'm not worried about my daughter. She will grow up knowing that she was created perfectly, flaws and all, to be the person that she was meant to be. All I can hope is the young women out there like Miley Cyrus learn that lesson too before it's too late.

Happy Tuesday! Thank all of the strong men and women in your life who have made you the way that you are today!

Love,
Dominique