YOU DON’T KNOW ME. *Snap Snap*

20130423-122626.jpgAt some point in the last two years, I started taking myself a little too seriously. Which seems pretty unbelievable if you’ve ever seen me in public or had a five minute conversation with me. Oh, who am I kidding. A two and a half minute chat is enough. I’ve always been a “weirdo”. I had no filters. And I dealt with every social situation by dancing like someone’s embarrassing aunt. I wore jeans and a tshirt, usually forgot to put on makeup and kicked dudes’ butts at Quarters. But now I look in the mirror and think, “Where the fuck did that person go and who is this uptight bitch?”. I feel like someone with multiple personalities, but my brain was too lazy to handle more than one so it just dropped the original.

Suddenly I’m reprimanding people when they swear, ordering friends not to post unflattering photos they take of me, drinking wine instead of beer (when I’m not all knocked up), paying someone in a salon to dye my hair, and I’ve completely forgotten how to do my drunk-Elvis dance.

There are a lot of things that I’ve been blaming this on. Some intense life ups and downs. Harsh (and incredibly public) criticism from people who less than like me. A couple of hits to the old self-confidence. Suddenly realizing I have a child who’s school-age. Getting married. Turning 25. Planning for and then being pregnant with my second spawn. Being unable to relax (ahem, drink) because of that whole pregnancy thing…

Enough is enough. I call bullshit on myself. BULLSHIT.

I don’t need to be squeezing myself into a cookie cutter mould to better fit how some people think I should act. Or worse, to fit how I think that other people think I should be acting. That shit is uncomfortable and, let’s be serious for a second, takes way more effort than it’s worth. My kid loves me, my husband loves me, my friends love me. So fuck y’all that might take issue. There’s no method to my madness, but my life has always been made amazing because of it.

So this is a reminder to myself, and a call-to-arms for the other weirdos in my life. Next time I start to think or act otherwise can one of you shitheads step up and say something? I mean, really. I can’t be the only one held responsible for my behaviour.

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