You know, I’m done trying to fit in. It’s so hard and it never works all the way and it ends up breaking my heart in the end anyway, so I’m just done. I know I’m different. I always have been. I’m 39 years old, so you think I’d get it by now, you’d think I’d be used to being the weirdo in the group. The one who doesn’t fit in, who doesn’t seem quite like everyone else.
There have definitely been red flags along the way. Like that one time I went to a playdate, and realized that EVERY SINGLE MOM IN THE ROOM HAD ON THE SAME PANTS. There were like 8 of you. It was before yoga pants, so it was denim capris. And every single effing one of you was wearing the same uniform. That should’ve tipped me off, but I kept trying, kept wanting to be your friend. I told myself it was because i wanted my sons to have friends, to play, to get socialized. But it was really for me. I tried again. I went to another “playdate”. No one said a word to me. I tried to interact, tried to insinuate myself into your conversations about your lake houses and vacations, but my GOD it was awkward and I left early and cried all the way home.
I was and am INCREDIBLY lonely as a stay at home mom. I love that i get to do it, get to be with my boys all day every day, but it’s fucking hard. I see all these other moms who meet up at the pool or at sports practices or go to moms nights out and I secretly want to do those things, but then I fucking HATE those women because they all seem so normal I’m so different from them. And I AM different from them. It’s like our life experiences are from completely different planes of existence. I get it. I’m a damned weirdo. I know it and I try to embrace it. But dammit it is HARD not having a tribe, not having even a friend to have coffee with or drink a beer with on the weekends.
Being authentic and real is a BIG DEAL to me. I know I could slap on some makeup, go get some new clothes, and get some highlights and be all up in their clique, but I vomit in mouth a little when I consider it. I know there are some weirdo mamas out there. I know you exist. I’ve even met a few of you, but our relationships never held tight and I don’t know why. Is it me? Probably. But you know what? I’m done caring. I can’t care anymore, it’s too hard. It makes me too sad. So here is my new set of rules. My weirdo mama manifesto:
- I will ALWAYS be myself.
I will be true to myself and not worry about what you think about me in all my glorious weirdness. To be authentic, to be REAL, is the best thing I can do for myself. No shame, no anxiety, just real.
- I will not compromise my integrity or my beliefs to be a part of your group
Yes, I support Black Lives Matter. Yes, I support same sex marriage. No, I don’t think they’re going to take away our guns. Yes, I own guns. I understand that you may disagree with me. Whatever. Fuck off if you can’t deal with me having a different opinion than you. As long as you understand that we can disagree and still be at least civil, if not friendly, we’re cool.
- I will embrace my weirdness.
I will own that shit. I AM a unique snowflake, and so are you. Fuck your labels. Don’t label yourself. Don’t put yourself into a box bound by what you do. Be you. Be weird. Love it.
- I will embrace YOUR weirdness! No judgements, sister! Let your weirdo flag fly! Bring your worst! If you are lucky enough to have a tribe of weirdos around you, they’ll appreciate you for being honest.
Mamas, let’s stop second-guessing ourselves, our real selves. Let’s be honest with ourselves and with our friends. Let’s be US, weird and glorious and amazing.