Seems like a simple enough question doesn’t it? “Who are you?”
Most folks would simply answer with their name, but I think that the question is more than that.
It’s something we think about, struggle with, discover and evolve into.
Some of us, anyways. There are those that don’t change in the slightest from the time they’re about twelve.
Trust me, I’ve dated a few of them. They indeed exist.
I’ve come to realize, who I am seems to be a matter of perspective.
To the Minions, I’m Mom. There’s an expectation of Momnipotence. I’m every where. I know all, I see all, I can fix all, I can find all.
I’m The Wife. Friend, confidante, comrade in arms, surviving this marriage and parenting gig together.
To the neighbours, I’m ‘the new person’ in town, ‘the one with all the kids’, and ‘she homeschools!’. I’m That Woman.
Honestly, I’ve been exploring a bit more of who I am lately. Admitting to myself, and others, aspects of my personality that I’ve kept hidden.
Clothes play a role. A big one.
I know, I know. “Imp, you don’t exactly seem like a fashionista…”
I’m not. I’m far too short, too chubby, and too poor to ever be a fashion anything. And completely lack the attention span needed to have the slightest clue about fashion. And loathe clothes shopping, unless its for Wolf or the kids.
And I have serious love for my footie jammies. Yes, I own, and wear footie jammies. Hot pink. with moose printed all over them, and a butt flap. Comfort and snuggliness in one. I think they would cause any fashion mogul to fall down dead.
I’ve always loved long, flowy skirts. And dresses. I’ve thought of them as feminine and pretty. I’ve always *felt* feminine and pretty in them.
Which is unusual for me. I’ve always believed myself to be more of a ‘utility’ sort of person. Workhorse, plow horse, cart horse. As far as horses go, I view myself more as this:
I thought that’s who I *needed* to be. And that I had to sacrifice my longing to feel feminine to do so. I was taught that ‘feminine’ means small, fragile, dainty. And boy, I do *not* fit that particular mold.
A few weeks ago, I decided, “ENOUGH!” I fell in love with some skirts online. And a site that carries some gorgeous long dresses. So, I bought some.
And, I love them. Totally, utterly, completely. I love that I can bend over and not worry about what anyone behind me might see. I love how comfortable they are.
And more than anything, I love how I *feel* wearing them. I feel…like me. Like, this is who I am, and I’m not trying to fit into a designated role anymore. I actually *enjoy* what I’m wearing, rather than just putting something on to not be nekkid, terrify children and horrify the neighbours.
So, who am I? I’m that homeschooling Mom, The Wife, a good friend, and that chick in the long skirts and dresses.
And, also the one that seriously rocks the hot pink polar fleece footie jammies, with the butt flap. That has moose printed all over it.
Cause I loooooooooove my footie jammies.
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