I got this text, “A Girl in Trouble Is a Temporary Thing,” from the song of the same name, by the ‘80s band Romeo Void. I first heard it (on cassette) when I was about 14 years old, and I’d lie awake in bed at night listening to it over and over, trying to imagine what the lyrics meant. I’d picture a pretty girl in a jean skirt walking by herself through city streets at night, shivering as she pulled her jacket around herself protectively, looking for any creeps who might be following or leering at her. And maybe she would get into a bit of trouble — falling into the arms of the wrong man, perhaps, someone who wanted to use or abuse her for his own selfish gain. But because girls are so darned sweet and pretty and generally pitiable, it wouldn’t be long before some kind-hearted rescuer would see fit to wrangle her out of whatever sordid jam she’d fallen prey to. As primitive and sexist as my ideas were about the song back then, you have to admit, it’s true to life on some level, for some women. And a woman is what I am now, not a girl, not by a long shot, not anymore. Yet I do still manage to get myself into plenty of trouble — financial trouble, relationship trouble, and plenty of self-created trouble, wrestling with the self-sabotaging instincts of my own mind. But what I could have never imagined thirty years ago, listening to “A Girl in Trouble Is a Temporary Thing”on my Walkman, was that my ultimate rescuer would never be a man, or even another kind and helpful woman. I hesitate to lay my specific spiritual beliefs out on the table in such a short little snapshot here. But it’s enough to say that I call upon the help of a loving power far greater than myself, often through a torrent of tears, and plenty of broken-down humility. Please help me, I’ll say, opening up my heart with all the hope I can muster, so as to become receptive to whatever form that help might take. All I can tell you, dear reader, is that it works. ❤️‍🔥—Y.B.D.