I have noticed that lately I am less patient with people who are not interested in taking the time to get to know me. They have a pre-conceived notion of who I am, and how I should behave. It’s my fault. For most of my life, I have worried what others think of me, and have tailored my actions, opinions, and outward appearance to please as many people as possible. This was a mistake, and one for which I have paid a huge price. For who wants or needs to be surrounded by people who don’t know you? Who is a better person for trying to please everybody, all the time? It is not possible. Usually what ends up happening is that you please nobody, yourself included.
It starts out when we are young girls. Told what is and what is not ladylike, made to believe that acting in any way that is not “ladylike” will cause us to be ostracized and ridiculed, conditioned to conform. We pluck, shave, rip out and color our hair. We spend hours upon our make-up, clogging our pores and causing the dreaded pimples we most likely wouldn’t have if we would just stop trying to cover up perceived imperfections in our already lovely faces. We cram our feet into uncomfortable shoes. We wear uncomfortable clothing. We sacrifice modesty for glamour.
I fell into this trap. I squashed my own unique weirdness, that wonderful thing that made me awesome. I was meek when I wanted to be loud and obnoxious. I spent time practicing a less raucous laugh. I spoke softly. I didn’t carry a big stick. I allowed people to treat me as the person I pretended to be. It wasn’t their fault they didn’t value my opinion. How could they? I didn’t value it myself.
In the last few years, I have become angry. I am angry with myself. I am angry with those around me who expect me to continue making them feel comfortable at the expense of my own happiness. I am angry watching beautiful women worry that they are not good enough, thin enough, pretty enough. I see them. They do not see themselves, and it is a poverty to this world.
I am not saying that I am a man-hating femi-Nazi. I am not. I am very traditional in what I myself want to be as a woman. I want to be able to be a stay-at-home mom. I love my job. It is a very hard job. It deserves more respect than it gets. I don’t want to be judged for my choices. I want to not judge other women for their choices. I want my daughters to grow up not pretending to be someone else’s idea of the perfect woman. They already are.
What I am trying to impart to everybody who reads this is that who you are is who you are. No matter how hard you try to cram yourself into someone else’s mold, you are never going to fit. You have your own mold. Learn to love it, because it is the only one that will ever make you happy.
I hereby vow to laugh LOUDLY. I will throw temper-tantrums when I am angry. I will tell people when they are walking on my toes. I will wear red and purple together, because I like BOTH colors. I will wear make-up if I feel like it, and leave it off if I don’t. I am going to give my honest opinion if asked, and often even if I am not asked. And if I disagree with you, I am going to tell you so.
I challenge every woman I know to dance. You dance to whatever goof-ball tune you hear, because you are fabulous. Stop letting yourself and others steal it from you. You know who those people are. They are our mothers, our fathers, our friends, our boyfriends and husbands, even ourselves. It isn’t their fault. After all, they had it stolen from them, and it is going to take generations to fix. Be the change you want to see.
