Back in the 80's there was this great bumper sticker: "Why Be Normal?" I never thought I cared much about fitting in, but lately I'm certain I've lost some of my rebellious nature. Chalk it up to getting older, but somehow the girl who shaved half her head and jetted to Italy has been replaced by the girl who sits up at night wondering why she doesn't have a white picket fence, a kid, and a dog.
"I just want to have a traditional, stable life," I'll think to myself as I listen to some of my stay-at-home mom friends. Then, deep down, some itsy-bitsy part of me will whisper: "But Mommy and Me classes and PTA meetings sound SOOOO boring."
As Oprah said recently, "I am seeking the fullest expression of myself." Trouble is separating who I am from who I think I should be is sometimes indiscernable.
Truth is, I am far more like Big Foot than Bambi and way more like Whoopi Goldberg than June Cleaver. And, just for today, that's ok with me.
Altered Today: Acceptance of my BigFoot nature, grass is greener syndrome.