Being Me

I’ve spent the last 21 years of my life doing this thing…I think we’re all pretty familiar with it. Everyone does it. There isn’t really a word for it, but the long and short is that we’re all essentially figuring out who we are. It never stops, but I think a big chunk of the heavy lifting happens earlier in life. The end goal for most of us is to grow into someone we can be happy with.

I’m not always happy with what I say or do, but I think I’m happy with who I am. I mean, I look at my quirks and I find pleasure in the things that make me odd.

  • I wear cowgirl boots.
  • I relish marathons of Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, X-Men, and Star Wars…just to name a few.
  • I’m a sucker for classic literature.
  • My favorite shirt is a suit variation of the classic “Tuxedo T.” (I’m wearing it as we speak.)

  • I wear coveralls in the suburbs. On my liberal arts college’s campus.
  • I find joy in inspecting ears of field corn.
  • I also find joy in wearing a dress now and then.
  • I also find joy in learning about the genetic patterns of rabbit breeds.
  • Some of my closest friends are ones that I’ve only met once or twice.
  • Some of those friends make a point to call me when they’re around weaning calves because they know I like to hear them mooing in the background. And let me tell you, there are few things that make me smile as big as this gesture.
  • I’ve never gone horseback riding, but I probably know more about horses than your average non-horse person.
  • I own a pair of adult-sized footy pajamas. They have snow-mobiling monkeys on them

  • I’ll post pictures of me wearing my footy pajamas with some of my nieces and nephews, on the Internet, for the whole world to see.

Okay, so some or all of these traits, alone or in conjunction with each other, tend to mean that I stray away from most cultural stereotypes. I’m a nerdy hick. A farmgirl without a farm. A cowgirl who doesn’t ride a horse. I’m a conundrum. An oxymoron. A mess. Some or all of these quirks have often meant that I’m “weird” to some folks. Despite all that, I’m happy with who I’ve grown into.

Let’s face it…we’re all a little weird. And our ability (and desire) to embrace that? That defines who we are and how the world sees us, far more than the quirks that we often find ourselves becoming self-conscious about.


8 thoughts on “Being Me

  1. I used to have footy pajamas. I got all kinds of looks in college when I wore them. I don’t have them anymore. They’re way too hot for my liking, but they were great for hanging out in the cold dorm hallway so I didn’t have to drag a blanket around with me.

    • I love my footy pajamas. They were a gag gift from my sister, and now I use them more for comic relief than anything. In this instance, my oldest niece was making fun of my nephew, saying that he was wearing “baby pajamas.” (He’s wearing the firetruck jammies in that picture with me.) He got kind of upset about it, so I snuck off to my room and put on my jammies to cheer him up. Then it turned into a pajama party with me and my kiddos. 🙂

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