I’ve been inspired by the brilliant documentary series, The Women Who Changed Modern Scotland, which celebrates the achievements of women who reshaped and revolutionised post-war Scotland (available on BBC iPlayer).
So I’d like to take this opportunity to celebrate the women who changed modern me. And ancient me. A potted herstory of my life, if you like.
First, there’s Mum
Mum, you’re up first, obviously. In terms of women who changed me, shaped me, nurtured, and inspired me through my life, you are literally number one.
Not only would I not have taken shape without you, but I wouldn’t have felt so empowered to express my full range of eccentricities had you not encouraged me so ferociously to be myself, and to strive for happiness in that.
If I haven’t quite mastered adulthood, or entirely severed the umbilical cord, then that’s because who I am is a massive baby that still wants to lie on your lap in front of the telly, aged 44.
I have two sisters, both inspirational and endlessly tolerant of me and my middle child angst.
Even now, when I throw a tantrum and tell them, “You don’t understand me!” they are incredibly understanding and respond with love and humour, for which I’m always grateful. What a laugh they are.
Funny women, in fact, have profoundly changed my life. And I can’t possibly fit them all in here, but one deserves a special mention.
And then there’s Elaine
I didn’t always know Elaine C Smith personally. My first encounter with her was watching Naked Video and Rab C Nesbitt as a kid.
We had every episode taped, and I would study them obsessively, learning the words, trying to do all the voices and play all the parts.
I was completely in love with all those funny Scottish people, and for me, Elaine was the funniest of them all.
When I started writing plays, I had the idea that I could maybe work with Elaine if I wrote something for her to be in.
She didn’t know who I was, and the play I sent her was pretty eccentric (obviously), so the whole thing felt like a long shot.
A woman in a chip shop
It was a about a woman stranded in a chip shop that’s floating in the North Sea who’s had a bump on the head and thinks she’s Billy Connolly. There was logic to this, I promise.
Elaine’s first words to me were, “What is going on in that head of yours?” and then “It’s a bonkers idea… I love it!”
The rest, as they say, is our ten-year friendship and collaborative herstory.
Next up, a shout-out to Miss Clark – my school drama teacher, whose words, “Lesley, you can do this” are responsible for me never getting a proper job.
There are too many gal pals who’ve shaped my life to mention, and lovers too – thanks to you all.
And Alice Munro
Even those who broke my heart and stole my Alice Munro short story collection – I’ve been happy to replace it.
Thanks to Alice Munro for being my favourite writer in prose, whose stories of women yearning for a better life are beloved companions that have shaped my understanding of all humanity.
Thanks to all the amazing women, far too many to mention, who shape and change my life every day, in so many ways. Power to you.
Conversation