Oranges and apples are both fruit, but one is not better than the other.
I try to improve myself every day, but I’ll never be those other women. It’s just not who I am.
Let me help illustrate. I had an interesting experience a few weeks ago. I was interviewing for a part-time day job (so I could help the family more,money wise). I dressed nicely, and wore some of my favorite flats because I had just come from picking up the kids from school.
The woman interviewing me was the owner of the company and beautiful. Her hair was conditioned, well taken care of, and basically flawless. She dressed well and her shoes were stunning. This skinny, beautiful mother of four (if I remember correctly) was just stunning. I felt frumpy in what I thought were my nicer clothes.
And the first thing she commented on was my shoes. I sheepishly admitted that I was wearing flats because I had just picked up my kids. As the interview went on I could tell this lady was the type that just looked glamorous all the time. She was the type of mom I wanted to look like, you know, the type that looks like they fell out of a magazine page, every day.
Since then I’ve actually thought a lot about that encounter. I’ve always wanted to be a glamorous woman. But the thing is, I’m not. I’m not a show pony, I’m more of a work horse. And I’m not saying that one is better than another, just that they are different and one I am not.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how we (often women) compare ourselves to each other and think that if we are not just like show pony mom, that we’re not good enough.
But it’d be like an apple comparing itself to the orange and crying because the orange has near perfectly round shape. They are two different things. Both fruit, but different.
The lady and I are two different ladies. Both women, but different.
One isn’t better than the other. But like a tool in a toolbox, one is more well-equipped for certain tasks. This lady, obviously runs her clothing company very well. And I’m good at the hard, dirty work life has to offer.
But, when it comes to being mothers, she is the perfect fit for her children. And I’m the perfect fit for mine.
I actually believe that. Soul mates, you could call it. Moms meant for certain children, children meant for certain moms. And the talents and qualities that I have built in are a good fit for them. So I guess my kids didn’t need glamorous mom.
That’s not to say that I can’t be glamorous mom when I need to, or when my kids need me to be. But on a daily basis, my work horse self is what my babies need. They need a mom who will wear flats.
I often wish I could be show pony mom, or super fit mom, or crafty mom, I admire those ladies so much. I try from time to time to have slices of their life, and I’ll always try to be better today than I was yesterday, more well-rounded and complete.
But those traits will never be the core of who I am. And that’s okay. Because my core is good and important. And that other lady’s core is good and important. And my core traits are just what my kids needs, as hers are what her children need.
So I’m not going to compare or cry anymore that my shape isn’t more symmetrical like all the oranges out there. I’m going to relish the fact that I have a stem, seeds in my center, and have an asymmetrical shape, because apples are good and important too.
