Wednesday, April 27, 2016

Not me

I've tried for a small eternity to pull a ponytail up and have that neat fishtail/fan look that women with straight hair have effortlessly.
Mine looks like a pig's tail.  Thanks curls.
I've tried for years to straighten my bangs so they look halfway decent when I get to work.
I have a nice cowlick right in the middle.  And let's hear it for Oklahoma humidity.  Looks like I've been in a sweatshop for three days.
I don't look cute when tired.  I give "resting bitch face" a whole new definition.
My fingernails grow out square.
My middle big toe is the longest.
I won't pretend to laugh if something isn't funny.
I have bags under my eyes that you could pack a whole family's wardrobe in.

I'm not Tigger.  I'm more Kanga without the cool pocket I can put shit in.

Why is any of this important?  There's a war out there about image.  What is "right" and what is "wrong".
How a person should act.  How they shouldn't.

But I don't give a flying fuck.

I'm forty-four years old.  I'm a mother of three and grandmother of one.  I've loved.  I've lost.  I've picked myself up and brushed myself off.  I've cried.  I've laughed.
There are days I simply struggle to make it through.
And I used to kick my own ass for this.  Why wasn't I doing more?  Surely I could add three or four more things to my waking hours to be more efficient?
What a slacker.

It's hard when you're conditioned to go and do and do and go until you drop.  I still kick myself every now and then for not doing "enough" in my opinion.

I used to work a twelve-hour shift from 7 pm to 7 am.  Pick up my kids from daycare at 11 am.  Take the Pre-K and Kindergarten babies to school and stay up with the baby to do it all over again.
I was freakin' Superwoman.
Now I drive an hour to work nine hours and drive an hour and a half back home.
Guess what?  I'm STILL fucking Superwoman.
And that won't change because of what I do or don't do.
I need to accept my limitations and learn to say "enough" even though I sometimes wonder if that's in my vocabulary.
So cut yourself some slack, my friend.
You do you.  Do what you can.  And quit kicking your own ass.  Your time and energy are better spent elsewhere.

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