You are Exactly Who You Need To Be

Anyone who knows me personally has heard me talk about our, “village.” I spoke about it some in part 5 of being intentional with your life. It is this community of people from diverse backgrounds, beliefs and lifestyles that all seem to have the common thread of loving others, raising good kids, and being respectful of those around us. It’s amazing what I’ve learned from this group, and it’s amazing what opportunities my desire for it has presented. Only recently, however, did it allow me a way to really accept and appreciate who I have become as a person.

Growing up, casual was not a word in my vocabulary. I’m not sure whether it was something I was told, silent expectation, or “monkey see, monkey do,” that lead me to understand that casual wasn’t a thing we did. We dressed up, and presented ourselves, everywhere we went. I got my first pair of heels in 2nd grade, and from that point on, I wore heels every day unless I was in flops. Sneakers were only for required gym class. And once a week during school I wore flats with my JROTC uniform. Otherwise, I wore 3-4 inch heels with my jeans almost daily for high school. Heels with platforms in middle school. Recently a podiatrist told me that some of my ankle issues are because my calf muscles are insanely tight/short (from wearing heels so frequently growing up). There was a lot of emphasis put on how we appeared growing up. Appearance in clothing, appearance in finances, appearances in situations. Looking back, a lot of my younger years was about performing, rather than just being.

Out of high school I had a closet filled with 2 piece suits, blazers, dress pants, blouses to wear with jeans. The number of boxes filled with shoes that I moved across country when I moved with my husband was insane. Of them, zero sneakers.

I struggled to figure out who I was once I was finally on my own. Who I wanted to be as a person. I mean, we all want to be good people, but that is really vague, and that statement is really just dependent on the actions of those around you. As long as you’re not the worst person in the room, than you’re a good person, right? It also requires you to judge others in order to defend yourself. Let’s just say, from about 18 until 22 was ugly. Really, really, ugly. I was far from the best version of myself. But, considering the bar the majority of navy wives set for me… make sure I wasn’t the wife cheating on her husband, I wasn’t the wife spending all her husband’s money, and I wasn’t the wife wearing her husband’s rank. As long as I wasn’t that, then I was a good human. The bar was low y’all. But, during this time, I did manage to buy my first pair of sneakers as an adult, and embrace the idea of jeans with sneakers as comfortable and not, “schleppy.”

Then we moved back east. I was a new mom, living in a very “green” area with a spouse whose employer was not considered “green.” That area was so ignorant on his job that finding friends was difficult. The minute his job came up in conversation, I was told that they didn’t want to hang out with me because, “what about contamination?” As if my husband would do anything that would ever put our family in danger. It was lonely. Though, my sister from another mister did end up coming out of that move, so it wasn’t all for naught.

Next we moved to western PA. Nobody warned me that fitting in here would be really hard. Most people from this area have been here for generations. They have their circles of people, and they’re not usually on the hunt to add to it. I found myself changing in an attempt to feel like I fit in with the groups I did have available to me. I found myself running back to what was required of me as a kid. Put together outfits, accessories, appearances of having it all together. But I was desperate for connection. I did what I knew, what I thought was expected, not realizing that it still wasn’t really fulfilling my need for connection. You can have a lot of people around you, and still be really lonely.

A few moments/incidents took place in that time and I realized that I was becoming this person I didn’t want to be. I didn’t want to be so done up, and in such fragile clothing, and uncomfortable footwear, that I wasn’t enjoying my young child. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to take care of my appearance, but I was trying to be someone I wasn’t, to facilitate a life I didn’t want, filled with people who weren’t interested in connecting with me as a person. Gosh, that was a hard pill. That epiphany messed me up a bit. I had never really understood, “selling your soul to the devil,” until that moment. Not that any of those people were the devil. But, I understood that I was hustling myself so hard for the attention of people who would never be interested in me as a person, but rather only interested in me for what I could do for them. It wasn’t genuine. It wasn’t honest. It wasn’t real. It was everything I had in church growing up. This is the community you dress up and lie through your teeth to show everything is perfect with, not the community you lean on and do life with. I admit, I cried so hard I threw up that day. Everything I hated about my upbringing, all the hypocrisy I condemned my church for…I was getting suckered back in.

No more. It ended.

So, I stopped. I stopped polishing my outside for people who could care less about what was going on with my inside. I vowed that I was going to be real, and raw, and I was going to do it in the skin and body and clothes that I felt at home in. And that looks like a bunch of things completely depending on my mood. It could be leggings and a tunic, it can be jeans and a t-shirt, it could be dress pants and a blouse. It can be fuzzy boots, flip flops, slip on shoes or stilettos. It looks like a messy bun, my hair down, in a pony, curly, almost always with a pair of sunglasses on my head. Could be zero makeup, could be just mascara, could be an entire face full of make up. Who knows. It’s literally Russian roulette with what you’re going to get out of me. But it’s never because I believe there is only one way to present yourself to the world, or that only a select few get to witness my real. I don’t want to hide behind a carefully curated closet of armor.

As our village grew, as we met more people, a common thread kept being spoken. Everyone has said some form of a statement that comments on how laid back and easy things are around us (my husband and I). That it really is, “what you see is what you get.” That “come as you are,” is an action and not just at statement with us. People have showed up at my house when it’s clean, and shown up at my house when my piles are everywhere. I have scrambled to grab a bra as someone pulls up my driveway, and I have been dressed to my shoes for the day. The statements have all entailed being comfortable to be who they are. That. That is what I want my legacy to be. That people felt at home in their own skin around me. Free to be and dress and present however they want to. I’m not in the business of perfect, I’m not in the business of showcasing a post worthy life. I’m in the business of people.

All of this is to say, be you. Don’t feel pressured to be some version of what this world wants you to be. What society says you should be. Are there some general operating guidelines for manners around others? Sure. But be your own brand of crazy, your own brand of extra, your own brand of honesty. It may not be for everyone. And that’s fine. It doesn’t have to be. But, I promise you, the you that you feel comfortable being, the skin you feel at home in… someone needs that. Lots of someones need that. Not everyone is comfortable not being everyone’s cup of tea. Some people need to not take a stand, not have an opinion, be malleable and fluid in order to mesh into whatever social space is thrown their way. And that’s fine. But, there are those just itching to take off the weight of expectations of those around them and be themselves, if they can just find somewhere safe to do it. Do it first. Be that person. Create that space. Create that community. Not only do they need it, but you do too, more than you probably know.