Who am I, that I should be...?
Jan. 30th, 2002 10:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sierciaI think I'm having some kind of hyper-reaction to this whole "mom" thing.
I've been idly talking about getting pierced for YEARS. Literally years. In the 9 months since Widget arrived, I've gone and gotten one, committed to getting another, and seriously started considering my next tattoo, even though I declared after the last one that there would be no more. And I really want to do something stupid with my hair. Like dye it bright pink. Or maybe green or purple. Stupid. Not the timid "Make it a little redder" dye job I've been doing to cover up the grey.
And part of me is standing back watching all this, and saying "What the FUCK?!?" I'm 28 years old, somebody's mom, I have a professional job, where they expect /some/ degree of professional appearance (though no one said word one about the nose stud, oddly). I'm supposed to be OVER this kind of thing by now. I'm supposed to be an "adult", whetever that means. Then the other part of me says that there's no better time - I'm not travelling for my job, so appearance is a little less important right now, and Hannah's little enough that I won't be embarrassing her by trying to be "cool" Gods, can you imagine being 13, and having a mother with bright pink hair?
My mom had a saying, that she'd drag out whenever my sister and I tried to convince her to do something she thought was too "young" for her (which for her meant doing as little as wearing her waist length hair down instead of in a bun); "Sheep in lamb's clothing", she'd scoff at us, as if it was ridiculous to try and become younger by appearing younger, or hell, appearing her age. And the rational part of me is convinced that's just what I'm doing - trying to refuse to grow up by making myself look like a goofy college kid, and the irrational part of me says "Who the hell cares?" It's not like I can't take out the metal when or if it no longer pleases me. The tattoos are a little tougher, but they're in pretty hide-able places anyway. And then there's this other little part of me that is SO tired of analysing everything that I do, or that I want to do, or that I think about doing. And I don't know where that little voice belongs either.
And this whole dialogue is making me think about roles, and how many of them we try to juggle, and I'm a little overwhelmed trying to make them all mesh into one coherent whole. The Signals catalog, for a bunch of years, sold these little pins. Little metal bars, with "'s Mom" etched in them. And their little blurb said something shmaltzy about how being a mom was the most important role you play, and how so many people would identify you that way - teachers, playmates, coaches, blah blah blah. And even before I was a mom those drove me nuts, because the idea of being so uni-dimensional made me squirm, now they kinda make me writhe. But I don't know how to square all the facets of my personality into a coherent whole, there's too many of them, and they all have weird angles and jaggedy bits. And I don't want to be just Widget's mom, or Wiley's wife, or MerlinOne tech support (god, I barely want to be that any more as it is). Maybe that's why I'm doing all this nutsy stuff - to find some way to be obviously not any of those thigs, or to telegraph to everyone I meet that there's more to me than just that, right away, at a glance. Force people to look at me differently. *shrug*
Enough deep thoughts for one might. I simply must get some sleep.
but nobody ever asked me
if i thought i could be
everything to someone
there's a crowd of people
harbored in every person
there are so many roles that we play
you've decided to love me for eternity
and i'm still deciding
who i want to be today
I've been idly talking about getting pierced for YEARS. Literally years. In the 9 months since Widget arrived, I've gone and gotten one, committed to getting another, and seriously started considering my next tattoo, even though I declared after the last one that there would be no more. And I really want to do something stupid with my hair. Like dye it bright pink. Or maybe green or purple. Stupid. Not the timid "Make it a little redder" dye job I've been doing to cover up the grey.
And part of me is standing back watching all this, and saying "What the FUCK?!?" I'm 28 years old, somebody's mom, I have a professional job, where they expect /some/ degree of professional appearance (though no one said word one about the nose stud, oddly). I'm supposed to be OVER this kind of thing by now. I'm supposed to be an "adult", whetever that means. Then the other part of me says that there's no better time - I'm not travelling for my job, so appearance is a little less important right now, and Hannah's little enough that I won't be embarrassing her by trying to be "cool" Gods, can you imagine being 13, and having a mother with bright pink hair?
My mom had a saying, that she'd drag out whenever my sister and I tried to convince her to do something she thought was too "young" for her (which for her meant doing as little as wearing her waist length hair down instead of in a bun); "Sheep in lamb's clothing", she'd scoff at us, as if it was ridiculous to try and become younger by appearing younger, or hell, appearing her age. And the rational part of me is convinced that's just what I'm doing - trying to refuse to grow up by making myself look like a goofy college kid, and the irrational part of me says "Who the hell cares?" It's not like I can't take out the metal when or if it no longer pleases me. The tattoos are a little tougher, but they're in pretty hide-able places anyway. And then there's this other little part of me that is SO tired of analysing everything that I do, or that I want to do, or that I think about doing. And I don't know where that little voice belongs either.
And this whole dialogue is making me think about roles, and how many of them we try to juggle, and I'm a little overwhelmed trying to make them all mesh into one coherent whole. The Signals catalog, for a bunch of years, sold these little pins. Little metal bars, with "
Enough deep thoughts for one might. I simply must get some sleep.
but nobody ever asked me
if i thought i could be
everything to someone
there's a crowd of people
harbored in every person
there are so many roles that we play
you've decided to love me for eternity
and i'm still deciding
who i want to be today
