Early on, I felt like my story was written for me.
As a girl my story was: perfect “tom boy” daughter of a single mom.
As a teen my story was: perfect dance-team mean girl by day…parent to an emotionally unstable alcoholic mother by night.
As a college student my story was: My mom died. And, surprise…perfectionist.
And then, for the first time ever, I thought I was writing my own story (but I wasn’t… at least not entirely).
As a motherless daughter my story was: Perfectionist social services case worker. Healer of the world.
Are you sensing a theme?
Perfect wife. Perfect friend. Perfect daughter. Perfect sister.
And then I became a mother to my own child.
Motherhood kicked and humbled my perfectionist faker ass.
The woman who appeared to have it all perfectly together, was a sad little girl hiding all kinds of shame. TERRIFIED to be a mother.
And so began the work of learning who I am, loving who I am, and authoring my life. FOR REAL.
That’s my story now.
Learning. Loving. Creating. Writing.
Rarely like any of the social conventions and archetypes I exhaustively portrayed when I was younger.
It feels AMAZING.
Angie, being Angie. A perfectly imperfect woman, daughter, friend, mother, and wife. I’m a lover and a fighter. I’m up, and I’m down. I succeed. I fuck up. (I cuss). I hope people see things here and in my writing they only think to themselves and are inspired to be unashamed of who they are.
Let’s live life… out loud.
Note: I’ve been encouraged, as a blogger, to “find my niche, and stay consistent to it.” I can try, but I’m fairly certain it’s an exercise in futility for me. My personality rejects niches. So, the moment I adopt one, I’d be inspired to break out of it. I don’t think I can be typed…I don’t think anyone can, and I cannot embrace or promote it. I don’t know that any man or woman these days is a typical anything. My life is all over the board. And so is this blog. So, if anything, my niche is perhaps something like, “be yourself”…….. or “humanity.”