Her Take
I’m overthinking this introduction. What you need to know is that I just ‘reconnected’ with someone from my 8th grade graduating class and it was frickin’ weird. But good weird. Not heartwarming-good-weird, but definitely healthy-for-my-mental-state-good-weird.
I went to parochial school, specifically Lutheran School. It’s not the same as private school AT ALL because you can just go there if you want and can afford the tuition. It’s more like public school if you had to color the Seal of Martin Luther and glue it to construction paper every year close to Reformation Day. Also, you learn about Reformation Day, so there’s that.
Let’s get back to Julie. (I was going to change her name but, honestly, if she ever reads this she’s going to know I’m talking about her so what’s the point?). She and I ended up in a class together this fall after not seeing each other for … ugh… 33 years. (Shut up.)
Day one of class I sat there, not knowing anyone, as we went around the room and introduced ourselves. She was there with her husband, who she said ‘forced her’ to come with him (insert polite chuckle) and I watched that happening without recognizing her at all.
In fact, for the first couple of weeks of class all I really thought about her was ‘Is she real nice, or fake nice?’ which is not exactly a compliment. Everything about her is comfortable, lovely, vanilla, and conveys a fuzzy average-ness.
Finally, week three, we’re all standing around waiting for something and she comes charging through the group saying “Suzi Winters?? That’s you, isn’t it?”. And, uh, yeah, it is. It totally is, or at least was.
Let me stop here and say that Julie was absolutely lovely and we even hugged. Twice. It was a virtual tsunami of Midwestern emotion. That’s not the point, but there you are. The point is that I realized that Julie, as lovely and relentlessly polite as she is, is also PRECISELY who I don’t want to be.
How to explain? Ok, you need context, but I’ll make it quick. Some facts about me are: I’m married, have three kids, and live in a small town in Wisconsin. And I don’t want any of these things to define me. The facts are what the facts are, right? So I can’t LIE about any of that… well, this is the internet so I could, but the point is I’m not. And why would I make that stuff up? It would impress exactly zero people.
Ok, that’s not entirely true, because it impressed Julie. At least to the extent that she realized that I’m a mom and she’s a mom. She married her high school sweetheart, had a bunch of kids, volunteers at her church, uses phrases like “We only eat fresh baked bread at our house.” and is generally a Midwestern Mom stereotype. But, you know, WHOOPDEE FREAKIN’ DOO we’re moms together and isn’t that a fun thing to bond over?
Sure, if you like that sort of thing.
Some women become moms and suddenly that’s their whole identity. They’re driving the kids to soccer practice in their minivan with the little stick figure family on the rear window wearing their ‘Momma Bear’ hoodie saying “I’m too blessed to be stressed” or some crap and it’s cool because it’s comforting to see something so normal. And it’s fine, really. It’s just not for me.
My dirty secret is this: the idea of disappearing into Mom-dom makes me die a little inside.
Not because I’m such a stunningly out-of-touch liberal that I can’t respect the fundamental good that a healthy family with a super Mom-y Mom does for society. I want women who want to be Soccer Mom or Dance Mom or WHATEVER Mom to be that, as long a that’s the path that keeps them fulfilled. (Plus, don’t forget, I did my bit, made people, went to soccer games, took pictures of them to bore my friends with, the whole nine yards.)
But I’ll never be a MOM mom, not really. Not like Julie can be.
In a world where my peers know how to clean window blinds and deglaze a pan to make something with a light wine sauce, I’m woefully behind and don’t plan to catch up. Not because I can’t. Because I don’t want to. I want to know who I am and be that, not confine myself to other people’s expectations of who I am.
At this point I know who that person is, really, and she’s much more like a kid in a candy store than the kid’s mom. She’d rather be doing the things that feel fun, saying what comes to her mind, and living life than being predictable and conservative.
Maybe you think I’m fundamentally selfish for wanting my life to be MINE. (Just like that, in capital letters.) Sure, I can see that, and it might even be true. I’m tempted here to offer you a lot of proof that I’m not a self-absorbed a-hole, but instead, let me paint you a picture, ok?
Think about who you were before your life told you who you had to be. Before you were the Soccer Mom, or the Football Guy, or the Queer Chic, or the Gay Kid, or any of those things.
Take yourself back to the time when you were just you. Every day that the sun rose on you was something new and exciting. You had endless potential, infinite enthusiasm and curiosity, and boundless love for everyone and everything. You hadn’t learned differently yet. The world hadn’t taken that from you.
Remember that?
That’s who I want to be.
His Take
Unlike my esteemed colleague, I do not run into my classmates very often. Actually, “never” would be an accurate word to use. Wait, I did ONCE. So, one time in 28 years. So pretty much never. My wife and I do, however, make sporadic trips back to Rapids to see my/our friends and I’m happy to report that not one of them is the kind of person that I wouldn’t want to be. They’re all good, down to earth, salt of the earth people. Who are of the earth. There’s a lot of earth. Very earthy people. Moving on, I run into WAY too many people who are examples of people that I don’t want to be, and I’m glad I’m not.
I’m very far from perfect. Equal parts Frank Drebin and a comic book nerd, I have more faults than I’d care to admit, but there’s a lot about myself that I do like. Now, I’ve worked retail most of my adult life. I’ve worked in some of the busiest stores and also some of the slowest. I honestly wish I would’ve been able to keep a running tab on just how many people I’ve met. But, I’ve met every type of person that there is. Every race, color, creed, sexuality, gender, height, weight, you get the idea. What surprises me is that how wrong I am about people. People constantly throw me off by turning out to be a lot different than I thought they’d be. Maybe I’m just too quick to judge.
I do have one person that is a very dear friend of mine, who is my version of Julie. We’ve been friends since 1999. In that time, I’ve watched him go from a genuine nice guy who’d do anything for you to one of the worst people that I know, and honestly, no longer a friend at all. Let me tell you what I see when I look at this guy. He’s arrogant, condescending, conceited, (I’m not doing this alphabetically, I swear), vain, egotistical and one of the biggest name droppers I’ve ever met in my life. HE is everything that I hate about people and everything that I actively work to not be.
When I was young, I didn’t think a lot about WHO I wanted to be as much as WHAT I wanted to be. And as with most kids that changed on a pretty much daily basis. A superhero, a stunt man, an artist, a writer, you name it, I day dreamed about it. But I don’t know when I first thought of who I wanted to be. I mean, I didn’t really think there were any options. I pretty much figured that I’d be me…just bigger. But it turns out you actually DO have choices, not only that but there are TONS of options. When I figured that out, I knew that I never wanted to be the stereotypical guy who works in a cubicle who was overworked and underpaid, drove too far to work, came home to a wife and three kids, then got fat from sitting on the sofa and watching sports on tv all weekend.
I never wanted to sit down, I wanted to be on the go constantly. In my mind for some reason busy = successful. I quickly learned that that wasn’t the case. I’ll be honest with you, I still don’t know who I want to be when I grow up, and I don’t think I ever will. I think it changes from day to day. There are things that I’ll always try to be: fun, kind, flexible. Most of all, I’m just trying to be a good guy that doesn’t annoy the shit out of anybody. I think if I’m able to do that, I’ll come out ahead.
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