by I always had difficulty defining who I was. I have friends that are incredibly easy to classify or describe. The artsy friend, the silly adventurous friend, the mommy friend, the type A friend. I never felt like I fit into any distinct label or that I could be “summed up.” I felt like I had many interests, none of which meshed well together. I wasn’t the crafty one, the sporty one, or the fashionable one. I was constantly trying to be a certain type of person, but no matter what I tried I always felt like I didn’t quite fit into the role. Square peg, round hole. But when I was younger, I knew exactly who I wanted to be when I grew up.
I wanted to be a writer, live in Boston, wander the streets in my long peacoat and wear glasses that made me look much more distinguished than I really was. I could see myself, sipping an over-priced coffee in a dimly lit coffee shop as I eagerly typed away on my laptop. I’d live in a studio apartment decorated with unique and rustic-charm pieces. I’d get married, have children and continue to write. My laptop would overlook a large lush green year and tiny finger prints would coat the white french doors. I’d be a stay at home mom and I’d be a writer. I would be a “type”. I would be that type. The writer type.
Somewhere along the way though, those dreams changed. It didn’t occur overnight, it just happened. The lines between what I wanted to do and what I should do started to blur together and before I knew it, elements of my childhood dream were no longer. Some stayed the same (marriage, children, etc) but others were long gone. At a point in my life when I thought that everything should be falling into place and I would be coming into my own, I suddenly had no idea who I was.
And I’ll admit, this freaked me out.
For the past few years I’ve been frustrated that if given the task of explaining myself in one word, I couldn’t do it. In fact, if I were asked to be a Spice Girl, I would be _____spice. I tried on several different metaphorical hats, but none seemed to define who I was or who I wanted to be.
I’d think to myself, “I want to be the kind of mom/wife/friend/woman that does/wears/says ____.”
But my next thought would be, “Who are you trying to kid? You can’t pull that off. You’re not that type.”
It wasn’t until I thought about it, really thought about it, when I realized, screw the Spice Girls. Can one word really describe a person? Shouldn’t I be proud that I can’t be summarized into a “type”. I can’t be explained in one word.
I want more than to be the career-driven PA, more than the mother of two (for now), more than a wife, more than a writer. In the end, I wanted it all.
And that is what I got.
**************************************************************************************************
A special thanks to Cordial Punch Press (formerly Paper Dahlia Design) for the amazing header for my blog. If you haven’t checked out her website or Facebook page yet, you definitely should. Her work is simply amazing and you won’t be disappointed.
Oh Kate we are so similar. My dream was to become a writer in new york city, manhattan to be exact. It was a 6th grade dream, so family wasn’t a part of it. I would check out books from the library about NYC with my friend Mandy. God only knows where Mandy is today and I will never go to NYC ( well maybe for a vacation again). Funny how we both ended up in the health field instead. I guess it explains why I enjoyed the writing portion of our 2 year research project. Keep the posts coming , I like each one. -nikki