The Building’s identity

resided in the ornament ~ Louis Sullivan

Have you ever had one of those moments that made you question just who and how you are. If you are so far outside the norm that you need to perhaps, rein it in?

I’ve had those, several of those at different times in my life.

When I first went to work in an office and dressed up in a blazer. I was still in college, but thought I needed to look like an adult. And it covered up my first tattoo. That didn’t stick.

When I married the first time and kept looking down at that wedding band saying in my head “I’m married now, a married WOMAN now) time to get adult-er. The marriage nor the WOMAN stuck for very long.

When I decided I should stop being bisexual and be a lesbian. Except I wasn’t.  A friend said I had to cut my hair to signal and I just did not want to.

When I decided to fling myself from the punkish to the full blown goth. That does remain to this day, though in an abbreviated format, because who has that energy anymore.

Then…when I became a mom and kept getting mistaken for her nanny. I got rid of the fuschia hair and went to blonde.

Then when we moved to Arkansas. Was I going to go back to trying to fit in with the people my family wanted me to fit in with? Was I going to tone it down so parents would let their kids play with ours. To the first, yes then a quick no. To the second, yes…for awhile.

I think my stealth weird is how I get people to get to know me and find out I’m a good person, just a bit quirky.

I think I looked kinda boring during my jobs in Arkansas–at the university and the school system–but it didn’t bother me, I had other things, mostly Em things, going on. Still me but just less…ornamented unless there was an opportunity to dress up.

And when we moved to Eugene, my freak flag went from half mast to flying high. I have nearly all the tattoos I think I want (who knows though that changes easily). My hair has been white, pink, orange, fuschia, red, naturalish copper..short long and in between…I wear what I want to –which is kinda a spooky toddler grandma esthetic BUT

in a meeting yesterday when something of import that brought great relief was announced I reacted like well…Kermit. You know waving arms and bouncing. I tend to  carry my emotions in a basket and fling them about like a demented flower girl at a moon wedding.

And I noticed nobody else was doing that. Some small smiles, some yays in chat.

And I’m feeling it again, that “OMG you are SO WEIRD” feeling I had all the time when I was younger. Like not only am I an adult but I’m fucking old now and I should start behaving. But I think I’ve boomeranged right back to this demented spooky  flower girl kermit person so often I can’t reside for very long as anything else. I think that this, finally is who I am. Along with being a mom, kind, cat loving and slightly artistic.

But I’m kinda embarrassed. But I’m also not because I’m just being me.

Does this shit ever end? Do we just keep crossing the identity bridge over and over-adjusting and readjusting, putting on and taking off all the hats?

I mean…I guess I do anyway.

I don’t know if I will try to pull myself in and be quieter, more palatable. If I am ready to try that again. Or if I just give up and say yeah this is who I am, oh well. I don’t like feeling embarrassment.

But I do have to use up that fuschia dye first, while I think about this.