I've Got a Little Feisty in My Blood


The usual first impression that I leave goes as follows (so I'm told): totally sweet, somewhat shy and very amicable.

But don't be fooled.

Everyone that gets to know me learns that I'm a little too feisty. I'm eager to debate, I have strong opinions and, yes, I'll bite. And I won't be changing anytime soon. My dad calls me a driver. He's right. I'm strong-willed and I know the way I'm going, yessir.

And I'm so very proud of it. Because this feistiness, it pumps wildly through my blood.

It makes me think of my Grandma Helen, who despite being eaten alive my Parkinson's and cancer her last few months, never came across as weak or helpless. The flame inside burned passionately, as she'd grab a Budweiser and divulge stories of her glory days in the 1940s, sitting as tall as her fragile body would allow--a strong statue of a woman that I admired.

And I think of my Mom. Who endured years of beating from her first husband, and would try to accept it for the sake of her daughter, my sister. She'd get thrown against the wall, all 110 pounds of her, but she never let him break her; all the while, being thousands of miles away from her home country. She finally fled when she couldn't take it anymore and the bruises didn't foil her escape plan.

And I think of how I was the third attempt for my parents. There were two miscarriages before me, but somehow I held on and was even born six weeks early, itching to get out! Although my heart wasn't fully developed, my lungs were already mature--I was eager to breathe life in the best I could. Being an incubator baby, I even sported a mohawk haircut (so they could put little testers on me)--I was a week-old warrior.

And so this feisty attitude, I won't turn it down. I won't pretend to be dainty all time. If you piss me off, you'll know about it.

And remember, I warned you that I'm a biter. Don't say I never told you so.


  1. Wow, your family has been through some tough times. Survivors always come out stronger on the other side though. I was a mohawk baby too! Was sick when I was born and they had to shave the sides of my head for wires and tubes.

  2. You look like a badass. Got a Michael Madsen kind of quality to ya'. Dig that shit.

  3. Felicia--you can be part of my gang then.

    Ant--hahaha! Thanks, homie.

  4. First, love the pic. Hookah and beer? I dig it.

    Second, sounds like you come from a line of strong women, and that's awesome. Love that line you wrote about newborn you, "eager to breathe life in"... Can't nobody hold you down. :)

  5. i agree with what everyone has said. you do come from a strong line of women and it sounds like that has set you up for life, even from the very beginning. never turn down the feisty! feisty people are what make this world real and make it great.

  6. you're a feisty one. this post is a delight. very cool ashley. im glad you're my comrade!

  7. Ry--thanks. And the hookah and beer was had in Turkey. Makes it even better.

    Briss--now let's go spread our feisty in thailand :D

    David--comrades have to be feisty. If we're gonna be fighting in the trenches, we better be hardcore. I also found a definition that said a comrade was a "travel (or other adventure) mate." mwahaha!

  8. Love this. You have strong women to look up to and draw inspiration from. And that picture is downright feisty in itself.

  9. yay to your feistiness! i could use a bit for myself. could you infect me?

  10. I love this, it sounds like your a strong woman from a whole family of strong women! Being able to stand up for fight for what you believe in is one of the greatest strengths a person can have.

  11. Thanks to you three :)

    And Rita, sure...I'll infect you! I said I'm a biter, didn't I?? :D

  12. I adore this and it makes me even more certain we must meet someday :)


Featured Post

Roma, Part 3: When the Moon Hits Your Eye

One of the best things about Rome? The night is always young. Sonja and I took advantage of this. As soon as the sky turned to twilight a...