I worry about many things, but one of them is not if people like me. That is a fairly new disposition for me. Anyone reading one of my blog entries knows that I have been on this RV fulltime adventure with my husband for nearly a year and in spite of having some serious mentally and physically challenging crossroads, the unique perspective has been good. Literally just about every single day of our current lifestyle is new. I have been out of my comfort zone of routine and habit for so long, I barely remember what it feels like to have a sense of what the day will hold. In past blogs, I have discussed challenges we have faced like my weight gain and my fashionista deficits among others. However, after finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel and a little introspection, aside from the nauseating fact that I’m super in love with my hubby, this unusual life choice has empowered me to really get over concerns and the anxiety that I need to make others happy.
Ironically I spent endless years in my profession trying to be diplomatic and accommodating to a myriad of people. On a daily basis I had difficult parents, community concerns, challenging young people and staff struggles. Then of course there was always trying to stay out of the media and making those on the ladder above me happy campers. Personally, I juggled friends that were sometimes looking for what I could do for them and my own achilles heel, the friend that needed to be fixed. Over time I attempted to compartmentalize that my own quiet childhood demons of having to be perfect and never quite enough, were shadows that I was fighting blindly. Looking back the amount of energy I was spending to make others happy was nothing short of absurd. How could I actually expect to be capable of managing others happiness? Why did I need to try so hard?
Alas, being on the road and not having to manage any expectations outside of my immediate family has been a kick ass revelation. Now having lost someone I loved dearly has made that apparent with even greater clarity. Why do I or why does anyone, spend energy worrying about things that we truly cannot control? Primarily if we are liked. If we are cool enough or look the right way…. It’s all kind of irrational. Looking around at how much larger the world is than I ever knew, I have to laugh at myself and how much I worried about shit I really had no business trying to control.
I am now halfway to a hundred and I am going to try very hard to reconfigure my outlook for the rest of my life. I just went to the vineyards of Napa Valley and tasted incredibly expensive wines- I prefer screw off caps of cheap wine (and lots). I have given birth to other humans and there is no way my stretch marks will ever be covered by miracle creams. Having Mexican food causes my body to have excessive gas. I am not mother of the year- my kids are not evolving on the American Dream scale and often struggle with paying rent, but I like them. My days of wearing thong panties are absolutely over, regardless of any weight loss or personal trainer experiences, they will never ever resurface, my boyshorts are just too comfy. I wake up some days and I am just a bitch on wheels and unapologetic; between hot flashes and menstrual cycles more confusing than weather patterns, there are just days I wanna kick puppies. However, more than ever, I really like who I am and just do not care that much what others think.
All that being said, I appreciate and value the small circle of people I consider mine. I would walk through fire for a true friend. I’d give a kidney or other body parts not effected by my occasional disproportionate happy hour intake, to someone I love. Yet my days of pretending I have all the money I wish I had to impress others and trying to look like Jennifer Aniston, who is my age, are in my rearview mirror. I am rocking this life and I am doing myself, my way, to honor those who did not have the time, to live it loud.