gratitude-a-thon day 424: why I’m a little in love with Lena Dunham

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I know I’m in my 50’s. And Lena is just 30. I know that the show Girls is not meant for my AARP demographic. I know that her clothes are absurd and not something I would wear, (or that I think she should wear ). I know that she strips down to her, as she refers to them, “puffy nipples” more than The Real Housewives of  Any town USA tell lies. But, damn, I’ve got a girl crush on Lena Dunham, because she is fucking brilliant.

I just finished Not That Kind of Girl, a bunch of essays and drawings by the fabulous Miss D., in which she comes clean about a neurotic Jewish childhood of artists in Manhattan, her misguided love affairs, her feelings about any number of things, including but not limited to sex, men, making art, fame, those who done her wrong, and those who done her right, growing up.

It is honest, brave, brazen, and boffo. But here’s what has me crushing on that girl. She’s not embarrassed to tell you anything. ANYTHING. And damn, I love that. She is honest about her OCD, her body image, the fact that she had few friends when she was young. She is the quirky girl who was meant to be born an adult. She’s not ashamed to tell you about her endless sex capades and curiosity, or the funny little way her mind works.

See, honesty will always set you free. Forget the social media profiles, in which you look perfect, but are actually dying inside. Enough with the high school “It” girl who is actually struggling, but because she has good clothes and looks, gives off the impression that she is happy. Lena says it like it is. Like she is. Her transparency is less Carrie in great clothes waiting for Mr. Big, and more Carrie in Homeland considering drowning her baby in the tub. She is real, our girl, Lena. And real is what we need a little bit more of in these days Instagram, Twitter, Vine, Snapchat, and Facebook.

So, Lena, wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, I just want to say, keep doing it. You’re a breath of real and life sustainingly unpolluted air.  And you can write.  I’m making I Love Lena bumper stickers. And I’m going to wear one on my head.

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