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About Her Own Vietnam’s Main Character—
When Della Brown was 22 years old, she had just returned
from a hellish year serving as a U.S. Army nurse in a combat hospital in
Vietnam. During that time she had learned and lost much.
She had made mistakes: errors of judgment, of inexperience. One mistake may
have ended the life of a grievously injured soldier. Another cost Della her
best friend. Thirty years later, Della was forced to confront those mistakes
and find out whether she could learn to forgive: her country, her family, and
most of all, herself.
Della is a fictional character in my novel Her Own Vietnam. But her dilemma is
real. Many of us have made our own lives more difficult by holding onto
grievances and regrets.
Looking
back at your 22-year-old self, what would you counsel her about forgiveness?
“I would tell the 22-year-old me that she didn't have to try
so hard to be who she wanted, that it was okay that she couldn't survive in New
York City, that being an ‘artist’ didn't require anything in particular and
that she should forgive herself for making choices that were about what she
THOUGHT was right instead of what she felt was right.”
—Andi
Cumbo-Floyd, Age 40
“You don't have to be perfect and neither does anyone else.”
—Heather
Dorn, Age 37
“Dear Karen, You are going to meet a lot of people you think
you want to have sex with. Most of them are not worth the effort of shaving
your legs. You will convince yourself you are a free spirit, but you will spend
hours agonizing over relationships that never really were relationships, and
fretting that you never will have a real one, someone who loves you truly. Let
me tell you, Karen, one day you will be loved. You will experience many of the
things you dream of, and many things you do not. So spend this time before you
find love, singing, writing, reading, dancing, and studying the natural world.
Spend time in nature instead of seeking the elusive fantasy of a love that will
save you. You're better off using this time to learn to make sushi, throw
pottery, or bake pastry, than wasting one minute crying over lovers who never
loved you.”
—Karen
Lynch, Age 56
“You matter.”
—Lidia
Yuknavitch, Age 51
“All those years of feeling awful about yourself were
bullshit. You weren’t fat, you weren’t stupid, you weren’t ugly, and there were
lots of people that really loved and admired you. There will be even more once
you stop criticizing yourself so much and therefore are open to people. If you
like yourself, it makes it much easier for others to warm up to you. The things
that you care about and mean something to you are utterly valid. You’re very
smart even though you got the message that this wasn’t true. If you’re the only
one who is creative in your immediate sphere, you need to meet others who value
this and don’t tell you you’ll never get a job. You don’t have to be with
someone who doesn’t treat you well. You’re worth a lot more than that. Flirt,
have fun, and bask in your youthfulness. When you meet someone who is going to
treat you well, have fun with him or her. But keep doing the other things, too.”
—Bonnie
ZoBell, Age 59
“You're worth caring for, and your care is valuable. And
don't be so afraid all the time.”
—Beth
Couture, Age 34
“There is nothing I could have said to save her from years
of anger and blaming. She was not ready to hear the truth about relationships
and taking personal responsibility for what she thought and how she behaved.
The idea that she had choices about how she perceived herself and the world
around her would have been completely foreign. If I had been able to tell her
that what her mother taught her about her 'place' in society was all crap she
might have gotten a glimpse into a different reality, but she would not have
known what to do with it. She wanted to be right. To tell her that being right
was not all that important if she also wanted to feel she was loved, would have
undermined her foundation. It was her distorted foundation that propelled her
forward to over achieve, to be the best, to be above criticism, to care about
others, to do the work that needed to be done, to make her own mistakes.
Therein, would evolve a new foundation in which forgiveness as her salvation
was possible. Forgiveness releases us from the illusions of attack,
condemnation, and blame and keeps us focused on love, for if we truly love,
there is nothing to forgive. ‘Herein lies the peace of God’ (A Course In
Miracles).”
—Merna
Holloway, “Now, in the 71st year of my evolution”
“Dear Sheila: He's not worth you.”
—Sheila
Squillante, Age 44
“Honestly, I don't think there's much she could hear, but I would
keep showing up, being with her, listening and most of all LOVING her until she
started to believe the truth that she is loved, she is lovely, that she doesn't
need to try so hard - she is enough.”
—Kelly
Hausknecht Chripczuk, Age 37
“Dump the handsome Irishman who makes you laugh but drinks
too much and cheats on you and stay in school until you get your PhD. That nice
Jewish boy will always love you, and he'll wait for you to finish yourself and
forgive you when you show signs of asshatness. Grab him and hang on even if he
isn't gorgeous. Beauty wanes, companionship will not. You're a bit shallow, my
love, but I forgive you. No one knows everything at 22, and BTW, you do NOT
always have to say exactly what's on your mind. Even if you're usually correct,
you're dead right, and that does not endear you to others. Shut up and listen.
Learn to be still.”
—Joani
Reese, Age 57
“I consider regret a waste of emotional and physical
energy. Regret indicates you have not
moved on and are not living in the present, or have not learned from your
errors. But forgiveness, on the other
hand, is extremely important, and for the same reasons. At 22 I was still blaming my relationship
with my father for every sadness, heartbreak, ‘failure’ and embarrassment I
experienced. Such bullshit. My father was, and is, simply who he is — not my
ideal father but a flawed human being, like all of us. (Well, perhaps a level of cruelty that verged
on astonishing.) At 22, I was old enough
to take full responsibility for my behaviors and emotions, and their
consequences. But blaming my father allowed me to avoid that
responsibility. I wonder (but do not
regret) what decisions I would have made had I understood the freedom that
resides in responsibility of self. It's a matter of curiosity now. Too bad that wormhole into one or more lives
of my multiverse isn't available.”
—Debra
DeBlasi, Age 57
“I would tell that nervous little pony to forgive all those
slights— both real and imagined—
because if she's done all her work by the time she's my age
now, she's not going to remember them anyway, and because if she doesn't,
they're going to settle in her shoulders, neck and gut and give her lots of
pain and hold her back from following her dreams. I'd tell her keeping that
stuff around and real wastes her time, energy and life.”
—Tracy
DeBrincat, Age 54
Lynn Kanter is the author of the novels Her
Own Vietnam (2014, Shade Mountain Press), The Mayor of Heaven (1997) and On Lill Street (1992), both published by
Third Side Press. Her short fiction has appeared in the anthologies Lost Orchard (SUNY Press), Breaking Up is Hard to Do, and The Time of Our Lives: Women Write on Sex
After 40 (both Crossing Press), and the literary journal Verbsap. Her nonfiction has appeared in Referential Magazine and the anthologies
Coming Out of Cancer (Seal Press), Testimonies (Alyson Publications) and Confronting Cancer, Constructing Change
(Third Side Press).
Lynn is a lifelong activist for feminist and other
progressive causes, and has the T-shirts to prove it. Since 1992 Lynn has
worked as a writer for the Center for Community Change, a national social
justice organization. She lives with her wife in Washington, DC.
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