I have come to the conclusion that my life is not supposed to be normal. While you may applaud this fact, I have to be honest when I say I long for the chance to just be normal. You know, like all the great family pics on social media.
I can trace this yearning back to different phases in my development. This is just the way I have been made. I am not sure I am comfortable with it all the time. Looking at other people’s happy satisfying lives really leaves me wanting sometimes.
Perhaps it has something to do with birth order. Or maybe there is something inside me that will never settle and accept what is me.
Now, I look back over the bulk of what has shaped me and my life and I question the whys and what fors. Sometimes it just doesn’t seem fair.
I have lived through and faced things the majority of people, have not.
I have tried to rise above the fact that my life is not following a normal pattern but, sometimes, it gets to me.
If I can throw some words of wisdom into the path of somebody else who might be feeling this way, I would tell you: “It isn’t you.”
Assumptions are often made and taken as solid truth.
For instance, I watched a group of girls disembark from a boat the other day. They looked tired as they pulled in from a long day in the sun. Their blonde hair (yes all 6) was swept up in a knot, or discreetly brushed while turning into the slip. No one was speaking.
But once they stepped onto the dock, it was as if someone had opened a curtain and said: “Lights! Camera! Action!”
Every girl on that boat became an actress. There was the slightly pouty one, the one who kept sweeping her hair from side-to-side and then jostling it with one hand, one bathing suit read: Drunk AF (with the actual words on it).
Loudly, with many faux drunk stumbles, they snapped pics and then quality controlled them before posting to their followers. The crowded outdoor restaurant was the perfect audience. The blonde boaters yelled over to the waitresses in the restaurant as they came, like a herd of elephant onto dry land. They stood there, a full ten minutes, preening, while diners began to mutter under their breath.
These girls had managed to seize the attention of all around and it was exactly what they wanted. Many young teens were hanging around at the nearby park, picking up cues from what they were seeing. Behavior modeled to them by beautiful young 20 somethings.
I thought about this all weekend. Is this how the yearning begins? Wanting to live like the “IN” crowd?
Is there really ever an “In” crowd or is it simply anyone who can make you feel INADEQUATE?
It all has to do with accepting what you are given in life and being okay with that.
Many people my age have stayed married. Many have weathered the raising of families. I look longingly at Sunday family dinners of my friends with family close by and I start feeling like I have failed somehow.
But for me and my girls, I feel more connected to them as they live far away than many of my friends do with daughters right in the same town.
I admire their ability to travel, climb mountains, snow board, and meet people. It makes me so proud when I hear about their successes and even prouder when I watch them overcome adversity. They could have followed the crowd. But they chose autonomy and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Being comfortable in your own skin.
That is the ultimate goal.
It is not often easy to achieve, but once we quit looking at everyone else’s “so called wonderful lives” contentment grows.
This post is for all the people who feel that they have gotten the shaft.
The ones who think that the grass is always greener for everyone but you. I can safely say the green grass we see, sometimes, is astro-turf, over fertilized, or plain full of manure.
It has been a story that is, for the most part, enhanced to make the viewer appear to have less.
Don’t even bother to look. Don’t even bother to say : IF only or I wish…
Wastes time and energy.
Take what you got and run with it all the while saying thank you.
Like Popeye says: "I am what I am and that's all that I am."
Thanks for listening.