Gypsy mistrel adventurers
You never think it will happen somewhere as banal as a supermarket queue, this self-acceptance thing, but it does. It happens when you’re standing there in rolled up jeans and a holey jumper with chipped nail polish and hair all awry behind the perfect woman, who on a Sunday afternoon is turned out immaculately with perfect makeup and blow dried hair and an outfit that could come straight from the pages of Cosmo and you don’t feel like any less of a person for it.
I’m not a woman who wears heels and skirts and who spends time curling her hair. I roll out of bed into the nearest thing I can find, twist my hair out of the way because I can’t be bothered brushing it when I know it’ll be a tangled mess in half an hour anyway and power into the day. I’m cool with that.
I’ve got chipped nail polish and my fingers and my toes don’t match … and often my socks don’t match and I forget to do the washing until I run out of clothes. I have holes in my socks and holes in my shoes and perpetually have wet feet. I couldn’t tell you off the top of my head where my keys are or if I did the thing you asked me to. The best answer you’re going to get is probably. Deal with it.
I have piles of half-read books all over the place and socks down the back of the sofa from all the times I fell asleep and forgot to get up and go to bed. I push myself beyond the bounds of human endeavour and then crash for days. I couldn’t tell you the time but I could tell you a story. Perhaps about the time I went on holiday to Morocco and got propositioned halfway up a cliff. It’s okay. It’s just how I’m made.
Yes, I talk in metaphors and allegory and quite often round and round in cirlces until I can’t even remember where the starting point was let alone where I’m headed. I’m a dreamer, a creator, a storyteller. It’s my job to have unrealistic aspirations. It’s built-in contingency for making dreams come true. I’m a pragmatist too if you’d only listen.
I’m a wandering half-breed, gypsy mistrel adventurer. The horizons call to me and the winds whisper and sometimes I dream I can hear the strains of music from far distant shores that are carried in with it. I don’t rightly believe in home. I’ve never been anchored anywhere long enough to justify the title. Instead I consider myself at home when I’m immersed in the journey, when the possibilities are endless and that glorious horizon’s there, just waiting for me. I’m not powerfully driven by stuff. I don’t mind small spaces and attic rooms.I don’t need more than that and that’s okay too.
I came upon this site today. Still not sure what it is, but I really enjoyed waking up to read such a rich piece of prose, I know you. I am you. I have got enough of the jewels of life, good and bad, to stand behind that woman with the illusion of perfection to know that her life is as full of bad and good as any one of us. I pour my boundless energy into creating, and have developed inward to do so in the most meaningful way. I no longer “play the game” my mother taught me (never leave the house without lipstick – you have terrible lips). I found out that 1. I have full lips not ugly lips – something that at 16 was not in style, but today is actually found attractive. 2. my mother is misguided, bless her, because every man I have ever met told me they don’t like when I wear make-up. and most of all 3. no one really cares. I and you and she are all just part of the whole scene, made up of a wonderful assortment of unique individuals, and the variety is just utterly beautiful. It is a photograph of textures and colours and light and dark, and I fit in exactly where I do, no excuses. Freedom is just being yourself, and let the cards fall as they may. Now I am trying to explain that to my 4 kids, all just on the cusp of adulthood. Apparently I was a good mother until 2 years ago, and now I am not me. Actually, I am more me than I ever was. I hope they soon open their eyes and realize that I am still the same mother, just without the smoke and mirrors to try and appear perfection incarnate.
Thank you for a great moment on a Sunday morning. You are a very fine writer!
Susan Conner
Hi Susan,
The best of luck to you in presenting your “you” to the world. Stay true to yourself, be authentic and love life. It will love you back.
Thanks for stopping by to visit my random assortment of rambling thoughts.
Ana.
I’m so much like you it is eerie. I too am a dreamer of a sorts, who is contradictory in more ways than I can count. Have you looked into birth charts? They have given me a measure of understanding of how I function. I am a Sun in Pisces/Moon in Capricorn/Aries Ascendant, aka a total cluster f!
Hi Ashley! What a funny coincidence. I’m sun in capricorn/moon in pisces/scorpio ascendant
It makes for interesting times for sure…