I Wish I Were Me

I've come to the realization that my young women leaders were right. Not in every aspect, as I still think wearing chiffon sleeves that show your underwear is tacky, but when they told me that no one has a perfect life, they were right. It took me fifteen years to believe them, but here I am; I have arrived at the realization that I wish I were me, and no one else.

In college, I went to nursing school with a pretty special group of (mostly) girls. They were talented, funny, cute, and of course, smart. I was awkward, boisterous (to say the least) but pretty good looking (if I do say so myself). But there was one girl who I wanted to be. Despite my young women leaders warnings, I so wanted to be her. She was tall, thin, SO thin and I knew she didn't have to work to be thin. She was SO smart, and full of laughter, fun, and sparkle. Her eyes were full of light, and she captivated every room she walked into. Seriously we all flocked around her, and her laugh was so contagious, I can still hear it clearly, and I graduated in 1999. I basked in her company when I could, and managed to make it through school as myself, captured a wonderful husband, and began on my own.

Four boys and ten years later, I found myself wondering why I had to be me. So many days are full of dishes, (both dirty AND broken), band-aids, crying, decisions (I HATE decisions), frustration, more decisions, vacuuming, broken crayons in the dryer, explosive sneezes (streams from both nostrils), bum-wiping, light sabers, man-made spiderwebs in the yard (climbing rope goes a long way) and a daily quota of quarreling and wrestling. We began to build a house and being one who hates decisions (I usually put them off until it's so late that one of my options has been eliminated so I don't have a choice anymore) I began to be a woman I refer to as "grouchy mom." I told my kids that "Grouchy Mom" comes out after 8 pm so if they don't want to see her, they'd better be gone before then. Some days, she arrived earlier, especially on days with too much sugar, or where the weather didn't allow any outside playtime.

Grouchy mom became intertwined with me for more time than she should have, and I found myself wishing for a break, and looking at others around me, wondering why they all seemed to have a better life than I was living. I saw a picture of my friend from nursing school. She was featured in the Friend magazine. Her dad had just been called to be a General Authority, and the family photo was included in his introduction page. She looked just as beautiful and amazing as ever, and it looked like at least two of the boys in the photo belonged to her, maybe three. I thought to myself that it would be funny if we both had boys, but she looked so put together, I was sure she was a better mom than I was. Better mom, better student, better person. Well, I was right. We got together at a dinner gathering. I have no doubts that she is a better person than I am. And she does have it all. She has cancer.

Alisa, my dear dear friend, if you're reading this, I hope that it doesn't make you upset. But I want you to know, that watching the way you live your life has made me want to live mine better. I don't know if you would want to trade places with me, but I doubt it. I think that I am just a little slow in learning that life is best lived if you live where you were placed in it. And where we were placed, all of us, is pretty dam good. I wish I were me.