The Feral Fishwife

I know you’re wondering, “Why ‘fishwife’?” 

Well I would love to tell you why. Several years ago I was reading Safekeeping by Abigail Thomas and she started saying how bad she felt because she had been a "fishwife" to her husband all day. I was perplexed.

I continued reading and she kept bringing it up. So I dropped the book and consulted Siri. “Siri what is a fishwife?” Her answer was somewhat startling. “A fishwife, fish hag, or a fish lass is a woman who sells fish.” At this point I was quite certain that Abigail did not feel bad because she had been selling fish to her husband all day. 

On to the Google: 

“A coarse-mannered woman who is prone to shouting.”

As in:

"The screech of a fishwife"

Whoa. Well that made way more sense. Now I was intrigued. From there on out, every definition I found was rather derogatory. I came across many descriptions such as: abusive, rude, vulgar, crude, gossip, vixenish, foul-mouthed. It went on and on. The more I read the more I loved them! As it turns out, it started with the Dutch. The women were (*gasp*) ALLOWED to run the business at home while the men were at sea. They could sign contracts, own property and sling their own fish. It was lucrative at the time. 

Well England didn't like that one bit. And many others didn’t either. As we know, historically and presently, strong and independent women are scary. So naturally, we must coin a term that belittles them. 

I fell madly in love with fishwives. They became my own personal Rosie the Riveter. My kind of women. (And by the way, in my experience, women who yell are generally women who aren’t listened to. She’s probably already said it reasonably five times.) I made a decision to turn this slanderous term into a word of strength and resilience. 

Alas, the birth of my muse; Ms. Fish. 

The truth is, I was  born to write. I have a calling in my soul that needs to be expressed through words. It took me a long time to answer that call. And I now realize that my writing isn't just about me. It's about having something to say and hoping someone else needs to hear it. It's about showing others how to find their voice. We all have something to say. And it matters. It fucking matters. I have taught creative writing at homeless shelters, domestic violence shelters, addiction centers and various other places of healing and transition. Bringing writing in to the community has been incredibly fulfilling and the people in these rooms have taught me just as much as I ever hope to teach them. I don't "teach" anyone to write and I use that word as a placeholder. Writing is something that lives inside a heart and a mind. I simply provide inspiration and hopefully guide people toward trusting their own words.

 I am what I like to call an omniologist. I study a little bit of everything and everyone. I’m a writer, an artist, a cat mom and a real mom, a fishwife and a real wife. Just slinging creativity and curiosity to whoever feels like catching it. It took me a long time to get here. Literally and figuratively. I’m a flawed human with a good heart and my goal is to document and examine this weird and wonderful life we all share. It helps me to make sense of it all. I offer up my experience to you as a talisman of connection, an emblem of hope and an ode to the notion that we are not alone in our stories. Our stories are who we are, where we have been and what we have learned. They are a tribute and a testament to the tragic and beautiful gift of living. In each other's stories, we often find ourselves. And when we speak our authentic truth, that's when shame dies. I hope to offer humor, tenderness, empathy and honesty to you. All while covered in cat hair, naturally. Here you’ll find observations, prompts, contemplations, ponderings, poetry and essays. Sometimes it's just an untangling of the knots in my thoughts. I hope you find something here that moves you and allows you to trust what you have to say. 

-Ms. Fish