Funny story, how I came to read Get the Girls Out, a memoir by Lucy Bloom. I first met Lucy briefly late last year at a brand new sole traders’ social thing in Coogee, the vibrant little coastal neighbourhood in Sydney’s eastern suburbs where we both live. Of course I had no idea then that she was an author. Or a highly experienced business consultant. Or a CEO. Or a renowned international keynote speaker. With her trademark hot pink mohawk blitzed in favour of a peroxide buzzcut, Lucy was now a veritable undercover super-hustler!
Hair aside, she was friendly and relaxed and, along with the other half a dozen people I met that day, made me instantly feel as though I’d miraculously stumbled into a brand new tribe of like-minded creatives and exactly the type of low-key legends in whose company I thrive.
I knew Lucy operated a B&B from her stunning 19th Century seaside apartment block, so when she put a post up on a local Facebook community group a few weeks later for someone to help clean the place in preparation for Christmas guests, as a fellow vintage- and history-buff, I jumped at the chance for a stickybeak.
And so, somewhere between ‘pass the Chux’ and discovering Lucy’s custom laundry hamper (a giant tilting wire basket concealed inside a faux cupboard – ingenious!), she dug out a copy of Get the Girls Out and left it by the door for me to take home.
I’m so grateful! I really, really enjoyed this book.
As someone who lives under the constant weight of anxiety and with cabin doors armed and crossed checked in readiness for her next debilitating depressive cycle, I always find it remarkable (but oh so refreshing) to come across people like Lucy who grab life by the tits and seem to bounce so easily back from adversity and blaze through shitstorms headfirst. Hashtag ‘belikelucy’.
But none of us is superhuman, including Lucy. Far from it.
This raw memoir provides us with a poignant glimpse into the life of, simply, a fellow human, woman, mum, daughter, boss, colleague, and lover. Lucy’s trailblazing, professional success, and personal evolution have been hard-won. She makes mistakes, lots of them, yet she learns and grows from them with good humour, grace, and humility.
“‘My deepest wish,” says Lucy, “is that reading this book makes you want to do cool stuff, make plans, launch that business, pack your bags, shave your head, ride that horse, date that hottie, apply for that job, chuck that party – and, most of all, get your girls out, whatever that means for you.”
Available wherever you buy your books, Get the Girls Out describes a woman who lives, learns, and loves with her eyes, arms, heart, and yes, occasionally her legs, wide open – something we can all aspire to.
For me, Get the Girls Out – indeed Lucy herself – appeared in my life as these things so often do, in the right place, at the right time. It’s taken me many, many years to believe in the magic of serendipity. And to trust that I and I alone have the power to affect positive change in my life. But the momentum is building, and Lucy’s inspiring memoir has given me the confidence to embark on my very own year of YES.