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She had put on sexy clothing, changed her hairstyle, and strutted herself about, scoping the bar room with anticipation like a dominatrix at Army Bootcamp. She settled herself down to take a drink amidst staring eyes.
One particular guy wouldn't keep his mouth shut, and continued to heckle. She finally had enough of him, set her drink back down, and stood up facing him from across the bar.
"Shut your mother-fucking ass up right now, bitch!" she pointing her finger at him.
They argued back and forth until she invited him outside to kick his ass.
"Let's go right now, bitch! Let's go!", she stared him down.
With his friends smiling and chuckling, he waved his hand at her, and replied, "You're cute."
The quiet, obedient girl who had lived her entire life as a passive and proper housewife, had changed from day to night, and all for the better. I didn't know she ever had it in her, but now as my wife, I seem to love her more for it.
Sash and I had met each other just a couple of years ago, after each of us were unhappy in our existing marriages. We each wanted out of our respective miseries, to shed the expectations placed upon us by our friends and family, and just live freely. I told her that I wanted a partner, not a slave and not a boss, and that was all she needed to hear.
We got divorces and ran away together.
Motorcycles had always been in her life. She grew up the daughter of a 1%er motorcycle club member in Southern California. Her father rode her on his Harley-Davidson. She had boyfriends that rode motorcycles too. Yet, she was always on the passenger seat.
She had finally had enough of riding on the back of mine.
"I want to learn how to ride a motorcycle" she told me.
And from that day forward, her entire attitude changed. The quiet, obedient girl she had lived her entire life had changed into a loud, energetic, larger- than-life woman who wasn't going to let anyone else define her any longer.
But it wasn't an overnight change. She was still shy about letting the tiger out, partly out of fear of upsetting me, but also out of fear of losing control of herself. She's extroverted, she likes to lift weights, and loves getting attention. She seemingly doesn't have a gray area; she's either standing quietly still or she's loud and running a 100mph.
She has her own unique style, her own persona that she owns completely and is not afraid to live fully. She'll spend a solid 90 minutes fixing her hair, putting on makeup, and finding the right set of risque clothing before we hit the town for the evening. Sometimes I grow impatient waiting for her to get ready, but I realize that she wouldn't dare cut herself short, not even for me.
Did buying and riding her own motorcycle do all this to her? Or is buying and riding her own motorcycle a result of her changing her attitude?
It seems to be the latter.
Perhaps the biggest obstacle towards mastering a motorcycle is not just getting on one, but changing your attitude towards them. That's largely what happened to Sash. It injected a sense of determination and resolve that even I cannot take away from her. Even when she dropped the bike a couple of times, she took the initiative to get back on and try again.
There's an old saying that you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink. Somehow, you have to change the way the horse thinks, so that it goes to the water on its own.
All I did was convince Sash that she wanted to be her own woman. She figured out what that woman would be.
Now, she won't stop riding. The motorcycle was absorbed into her character, becoming a part of the woman she felt inside. And what guy doesn't love a woman who can manage herself. How much more freeing is it for a man to have a wife who doesn't pull on him and need him, but simply loves him and loves being with him?
You can learn more about Sash from her motoblog...