Down the Rabbit Hole: Dear Women of Wānaka

By chegs Chisholm

Dear women of Wānaka

Today I attended a business lunch – the kind of thing I tend to avoid, cringing in memory of the plethora I attended while working in the Big Smoke. The inane presentation of a person’s achievements fobbed off as the imparting of wisdom. Ugh.

As a shrouded introvert, the prospect of networking is dire. (I say shrouded because I can put on the face of confidence, but I’d much rather be hiding in my bathtub watching Fried Green Tomatoes and drinking wine alone.) I dread, dread, dread business lunches or breakfasts.

But a powerful wāhine in your midst, invited me to attend. She is a force – a community maven, a stronghold for compassion, action and attentiveness to the things that really matter – and when a person like this invites you to a luncheon, you attend.

You attend because you respect her and because, well, hanging out with her is what I imagine it would be like to hang out with all the Care Bears if they were to amalgamate as one and then grow up into an adult. Sparkly, funny, kind, caring, assertive, strong, curious and connected, with a glass of bubbles in their hand and a middle finger out to any haters.

So, I went. I paid the requisite fee. I put on the face of confidence and hid the dread. I walked into a cocoon of energy – soft, embracing and invigorating. The sheer quantity of awesome, driven women overwhelming.

Dear Women of Wānaka, I suspect people from big cities often look at our wee town and underestimate it, and us. They look at our work-life balance (us gallivanting around the hills.) They see the privilege of skiing, the loveliness of the setting and the houses (really nice houses btw). I suspect it’s easy to overlook the drive in this community, it’s hidden beneath the lifestyle, but then they haven’t walked into a room full of the women of Wānaka, like I just did.

When women get together, weird things happen. It’s hard to explain but it goes something like this: We talk, but we don’t just talk, we talk in a very feminine way.

Feminine conversation is wide open, wildly rambling and deeply connected. It’s about sharing and not judging, and it would seem, in contrast to the big-shoulder-pad-aggression of the 80s, that it’s about building ladders and pulling each other up by the bra-strap. Embracing the opportunity to help the other shine.

Today women of Wānaka wore their hearts on their sleeves as they talked about their lives in an effort to inspire through authenticity. They unabashedly brought raising children, balancing careers, body image, relationships, feeling beaten, feeling great, feeling tearful and feeling strong into the conversation. And they did it all without bashing the patriarchy or diminishing the role or choices any of us have ever made. 

A statistic was mentioned today that I’ve heard before and believe in so much: When you raise women up, when you give them a voice, when you allow them to be feminine and real, they raise the community up alongside them.

I purchased that ticket because I love my friend and trust her judgement. I walked into that room today willing to be unimpressed. Waiting to be bored. I walked out realising there is a tidal wave of movement in this small town. It’s heart-shaped, it’s pink and it’s working quietly in the background the way femininity does, to change this town, this country, this world - one project, one conversation, one connection at a time.

I might just go to the next Ignite Wānaka Women in Business lunch and even if I don’t, I know Wānaka is in good hands.