If you had met me when I was seven or eight years old, you would have been told that I was going to be a doctor, an artist, a writer, and a dancer. I was going to do it all and I was going to do it well. My grandmother and mother instilled this in me. I could do anything and everything that I put my mind to, as long as I didn’t quit. “Quitters never win,” my grandmother constantly said. Not only was I going to do all this, but at the time I was dressing like Punky Brewster because my mom also encouraged creativity and the notion that it didn’t matter what others thought about you, as long as you were happy. I was one spunky little kid.
Flash forward to junior high (oh yes, the dreaded junior high), where that spunky little girl turned into I-want-what-they-have-I-must-be-cool girl and where that seven year old became a distant memory. I started a new school and had to make new friends. The friends I made were horrendous. They were cool and they were mean. I don’t like treating anyone badly, so I invited a girl they teased to my birthday party and several of my “friends” did not show up because of it. I started doubting the whole cool thing.
Ah, the teenaged years, I got some of my spunk back. I dressed how I wanted and didn’t care what others thought. I was deemed alternative, skater chick, weird, etc. For the most part, I had a blast, but I lacked the confidence that I had at seven. I was very hard on myself. I spent a lot of time worrying about how much I weighed, if I was smart enough or what HE would think. Ironically, I did not want to get married. I constantly taunted my dad with the notion that I was going to get a one-way ticket to New York when I graduated, where I would live with my boyfriend, never get married or have children, and I was going to hire a chef because I didn’t need to know how to cook and besides I was going to be busy working as doctor. This drove him insane. He had a very 1950’s outlook on how a husband and wife should be and the roles they would play. I did not. I didn’t want anyone telling me what to do.
In my late teens and early twenties, I was very jaded and thought having a boyfriend would be having someone control me and I didn’t need that. Don’t get me wrong, I still had my crushes and guys that what make me turn into a bumbling, hair-twisting idiot, but for the most part I was a pretty strong-willed young lady who still dressed as she pleased. Of course, this stemmed from my childhood, I failed to mention my grandmother and my mom constantly told me that I didn’t need a man to do anything. I could do everything on my own. Funny now, I see my own mom is nothing like this. I think she was trying to get me to be something that she wished she was, but was not.
December 2, 2000, in walked my (future) husband and my world-turned upside down. I spent my twenties learning to cook (and loving it, might I add), falling in love with fashion whether it was cool or not, meeting some fantastic ladies (I mainly hung out with guys, so this was refreshing), and being the epitome of the wife my dad envisioned. Funny, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Things I learned about myself: I love aprons, cooking, and entertaining, I’m way more girly than I thought I would ever be and I do want kids, I think. I’m a little more 1950’s than I care to admit.
Present day, Hello, thirties! What took you so long to get here? I was told repeatedly by my mother, my mother-in-law, and just about any woman over 30 that you “come into your own” in your thirties. I’m just embarking on the 30’s journey, but I can feel it all coming together. I find myself nowadays trying to find a balance between the 7 year old and my 20’s self. I feel them merging together. I worry less about others feelings or what they would want, and more about what I would want. I am finally embarking on my career path after a lot of doubting myself, but I know I’m going to do it and I’m going to do it well. I have less hesitation. I’m still working on the fact that some hesitation is a good thing, and not to just leap and then look around. “Slow your roll, my child,” I hear my grandmother say in head. I realize that I can still be a strong, independent woman and have a husband, bake a pie, and look fierce while doing it. It is eye-opening, confusing, and wonderful all at the same time.
It’s amazing to me, how many Renees I have been over the years. I am in awe of where I started, what I’ve been through, and where I am. I may have gotten lost a few times along the way, but I always end up back on the right path. I cannot wait to see what the future holds, but until then, I’m living in the moment and am grateful for every experience I have been given, whether it was good or bad. Punky power, my friends!
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