There have been SOOOOOO many people asking questions:
“What are doing, Misfit? Since you discovered your marriage is a big sham, what are you planning on doing with yourself?”
That’s a lie. No one has asked any of those questions. Mostly people are more subtle and ask if I’m doing okay. I always lie and tell them, “I’m doing GREAT! Couldn’t be better.” Maybe it’s a semi-lie, more like a half-fib. I don’t believe anyone is ever completely happy or perfect at any time in their life. We’re living, and in doing so we’re taking the good with the bad. Cutting through the bullshit with laughter.
And going to therapy. I’m not the only one who goes to therapy. All the cool kids are in therapy.
Besides going to therapy, I’ve been doing other things as well. I spend a lot of time on my hair:
Lately, people have been telling me, “Your hair is so pretty.” I then half-awkwardly scream at them, “Thanks, it’s fake. I bought hair.” I feel like I should be honest about buying hair. I bought hair, it makes me feel pretty. When I’m feeling stunning on the outside, I’ve noticed my back stands a little bit straighter, and inside I have more confidence. It’s just hair. No, it shouldn’t matter whether it’s long or short, blonde or brown, but I quit caring a long time ago about appearance. I went through a few years where I only did the necessary maintenance my hair needed maybe 2 to 3 times a year. Shortly after I had my son, for fun I dyed my hair pink. Then the pink hair color became the signature color of Misfit me. I felt like I had to have pink hair to be the Misfit people knew. I’ll always be a Misfit no matter what color my hair is. Today, I am blonde extension-wearing fake hair Misfit. And I like this hair and the person I’m growing into immensely.
Another activity I’ve been participating in is lunch. Not kidding. I used to not eat lunch. Therapist lady said I needed to start eating lunch. By not giving myself any energy during the day, I’d come home in a GRUMPY ASS MOOD. I needed to eat. I’ve been eating light lunches.
Fiber is an important part to any meal. Cheap trail mix is okay. I’ve actually been making my own but didn’t on the day I snapped this super Instagram worthy lunch picture. If you’re doing something you have to put it on Instagram or it didn’t really happen. Did I really eat this lunch? I didn’t post it on Instagram….. I ate the lunch, I had to. No one likes Grumpy Me.
I did post this on my Instagram, because physical activity has the same rules as food. If you didn’t post it, did you really exercise?
I started swimming again. I posted it on Facebook and Instagram. So swimming and I are in a pretty solid commitment. Then swimming, like my marriage, betrayed me. I tried to race a kid in the pool and hurt my back. I have to go to a chiropractor and explain how I secret raced a kid and politely ask the chiropractor if he/she will realign my back. I will probably have to promise to not secret race teenagers in the pool again. The reason I keep calling it a “secret race” is because I never asked the kid to race me. I waited until he reached the starting point and then took off at the same time he did. Technically, he “won” the race, but he didn’t know he won and I’m not telling him he won. However, I would like to note I did in fact keep up with the young teenager during our race. I’d give y’all a high-fives for this, but I hurt my back.
Along with exercise and hair and food, I’ve been painting my nails again.
Right?! I shocked myself too. Notice the surprise face, and look at that hair!
These are things I’ve been up to. Being a mom, a misfit, and a pretty-painted nails, fake-hair-wearing lady. Most importantly, I’m happy. Rediscovering my own inner and outer beauty. Learning about myself and being a mother, that’s where I’m at today.
As for the future, I am writing. Always writing. Some things will always stay the same.