Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Be You Bravely

In my small county of many amazing women who share close friendships, there's one woman who stands out. She's universally adored. Her name'll call her Gladys. She is beautiful, smart, fashionable, funny, hard-working, thoughtful, genuinely nice and effortlessly cool and confident.  She is beloved and respected by all the down-to-earth, kind, awesome and interesting moms (the moms I tend to gravitate towards, naturally) and feared by the handful of moms who are not so nice.

Anyway, Gladys is just one of those chic, witty women who seems to fit into no particular mold and fits easily into a number of different groups.  No sooner than someone drops her name than someone else chimes in "OH I LOVE HER!" and actually means it.  When I hang out with her I have to literally restrain myself from taking a selfie of us and posting it on FB so everyone knows we are friends. She's nearly ten years older than I am but manages to look about 28 and yet, I cannot hate her for it.

Sometimes she does things that are so interesting and cool that other people try to emulate her. 

And although people all inspire one another in different ways, I find it unusual when people try to BE Gladys.

Gladys is awesome. Gladys throws great parties.  Gladys has the best handbag and mixes the best cocktails and has the best thing to say to you when you feel fat and ugly but no matter what anyone does, they will never be Gladys.

I mean, I will NEVER be Gladys. Even if I wanted to, (which occasionally I do) I would never succeed because there is only one Gladys.  Whatever Gladys is doing seems very appealing. She is universally loved!  So maybe if we all do what Gladys does and wear what Gladys wears we will all be successful, popular and admired.

But no.  Because no matter how hard any of us would try, we would only come up with being a second-rate copy of Gladys.  Which seems to be an enormous waste of time considering we could easily and with no effort be a first-rate version of ourselves.

Sometimes it's hard to be yourself.  Sometimes it's much easier to look around and see what everyone else is doing and race to join the pack and do it too.

But some famous writer guy said "Know thyself!" as I creep closer to 40 it seems easier and easier to embrace who I am instead of trying to fit in.

No matter how uncool it may seem.  So here's some things I'm going to be more open about from now on and if people don't like it, then oh well.

As boring as it seems, I ADORE being alone in my house reading books.

Even though I feel a little regret about it, I don't want to have any more children even though it seems everyone has three kids.  And my desire to not want a third makes me feel guilty sometimes.

I find huge parties stressful and concerts annoying but I love hosting/going to small dinner parties with interesting food and more interesting people.

NERD ALERT! If given the chance, I will go to a playground that has built in chess boards and try and get another parent to play with me.

It's nice of you to ask but I will never join your boot camp, Mudderella team or train for a marathon because I believe any of these things could possibly kill me and I don't want to take the chance. Do you even know me? 

I may limit their screen time but my kids can eat as many home made cookies as they want.  Even if it's close to dinner.

I am baffled by those who do not drink wine and troubled by those who feel a need to always drink the whole jug. 

I like wearing a dress over jeans.  It's kind of my thing.

I like pinning my hair into a bun and I rarely, if ever, wear it down unless I've just gotten it done. I know I should take the time to make more effort with my hair but I don't because I'm lazy.

I don't ever watch the news because it makes me cry or feel scared.

I did not enjoy the new Cinderella movie very much.

I adore picnics, I hate horror films and I love being a Christian.

I'm not actually sure if Zack Brown is a person, an entire band or a sandwich.

I sometimes lose my temper with my kids, yell at them and feel really, truly, wretched afterwards. I then usually call my older sister, lament about what a terrible mother I am and she tells me to get over it. It always helps.

One of the highlights of my weekend is taking an adult karate class with a lovable collection of weirdos. I fit right in.  I've kept this a secret from many people for over two years. 

Gladys would never do that.  Or would she?  Gladys might keep a secret if she felt like it.

Because the thing with Gladys is that she owns it. If she were to begin wearing rubber gloves as a fashion accessory it would catch on because of her confidence. I could picture her saying "Oh yes, they're much easier to clean than cloth so it saves water. And they protect my manicure.  Super convenient!"

So, be you bravely!  I'm off to go read a book now and practice my jumping front kick while feeding my kids cookies.