My Quest for Normal

Being pregnant, I learned the wonderfulness of the word normal. I was elated each time I went to the doctor and was told that everything was normal. My symptoms were normal. Her heartbeat was normal. Her growth was normal. The ultrasound was normal. She was born normal.

Growing up, I was always the teacher's pet kind of kid. I was, in some sense of the word, my dad's favorite. I was the smart kid. I was the good kid. I don't think I ever thought of myself as normal and I never wanted to be normal if it meant being like everyone else.

Recently I've seen two girls (I say girls but they were around my age, not little girls) who I thought I would have a crush on if I were a boy :) I saw the first when we stopped in to see Jeff's dad on a Saturday morning. He and his wife are in the band for the pentacostal church they go to and they have rehearsal on Saturday mornings. The girl playing keyboard was apparently struggling with the new song. The guitar player and drummer and she were working to figure it out. Even though she looked a bit frustrated, it was the kind of frustration of being in your element; "I don't get this, but I know I will." I took note that she was quite normal looking.
She wore sweats and her hair wasn't "done," but she was wearing make-up. There was just something about her that was very appealing. Perhaps it was that sense of being where she belonged, the inner self shining through even to the casual observer.

The second girl, I guess I wouldn't say I had a crush on, she just stood out. She was in a choir in church a few weeks ago. She reminded me of someone I kind of knew in high school. I kind of knew a lot of people, being too shy to really claim a lot of friends as more than a friend of a friend. As I watched the choir girl, I found myself wishing that I would have been comfortable enough with myself in high school that I could have been friends with this girl. She and her best friend just had an air about them. They were confident and comfortable enough to not have to fit in even though they didn't necessarily stand out; they weren't the obvious stand out and rebel because I'm not a cheerleader types. They were just them.

I guess I've always expected more of myself. If I'm not the best, the favorite, the smartest, etc, it's just not enough. To be honest, how often am I the best? Not ever. I've always said I can get the A-/B+ grade, I just can't quite make the A. And I'm okay with that except I think it's not good enough for anyone else. Well, to be honest, it's probably just me that expects that of myself. So even when it comes to how I look, I think I'm supposed to be this glamour queen and I think that I am always failing. At my best, I'm still just one step short. I suppose this all sounds very vain. I never think of myself that way. It's quite the opposite really. The bar I've set for myself is just too high and I always think I'm a failure for not reaching it.

As I took note of these two girls and the feelings I had, I told myself that maybe for once in my life I need to realize that normal is better than okay. It's what I want. I will never be that glamour queen I think is pretty. I might not even have that girl next door Miss America perfection I think I try for. Perhaps I'm just me. And perhaps that is okay.

Maybe my beauty comes not from the outside, but from my inner qualities as well. When I was teaching and hopefully now as a mother I'm in my element and perhaps that gives me an attractive quality I don't see when I just look in the mirror clouded with all the images I've picked up out there. It's really hard to remember. But maybe normal is okay...