Multiple Personalities

Standard

Is it just me, or does it seem like in the various circles we run in people look at us differently? Maybe it is just me. So your in-laws see you in the same light as, say, your best friend from 7th grade does, right?……. Aaaaaaha! Heck no they don’t.  This is probably a good thing. Sometimes it’s not so good, I guess. Mostly I find it entertaining.  I run in lots of circles. {figuratively and socially…} A few of them overlap causing me a bit of trouble if my expected personalities conflict.  Don’t get me wrong…I’m not Jeckel and Hyde.  The core of my personality usually peeks through….here’s a few examples….

On one side of my extended family, I believe I am looked at as extremely conservative, republican, and rather sheltered.  On the flip side, most of my in-laws think I am a bit of a wild card, opinionated, and honestly, they find me a bit scary.  These are probably the extremes of my personalities.  I NEVER EVER let these particular circles intersect. Ever. Then the jig would be up.  You see, what I have discovered, is that it’s not necessarily me who determines the classification of my personality.  It’s the circle.  See if you can follow this.  If I were to switch the personality descriptions above from one group to the other, I would be describing THAT group.  Did I loose you? Alright, alright, I will just come out and say it.  My extended family is full of wild cards, opinionated people, and well, a little scary to some.  Lovely people though. Really. As for my in-laws, they are very conservative, very republican and, in this big bad world of ours, sheltered.  Its exciting just thinking about it.  There are a few exceptions on each side of course. { So sit yourselves down if you are reading this…I wasn’t speaking of  you, my wonderful family member.}

Here is another clash of my character; At my kids’ school, I’m the mom who doesn’t work in the classroom { I did at one time, when they were in lower grades. Now the curriculum is too difficult. Plus the students all are developing b.o. and are not as cute anymore.}. I don’t drive a mini van or SUV.  I drive an old Ford Mustang.  It doesn’t glide through the parking lot ready to be filled with lots of children who do not belong to me.  It rumbles. It only fits my family.  No extras.  I love love love love love love love it. I love it.  I also don’t have blonde hair or wear rhinestone-studded everything like 50% of the other moms.  I have red hair.  I was born with blonde…but I am a quite afraid that someone may bedazzle me with shiny fake stones if I were to keep it blonde.  That would be hell.  I also fear some of these moms only talk to me because they are trying to suck me into their little group.  I am sure that if I was to join them for coffee I would be returned home all dressed in pink and wearing bows in my hair. This too is a form of hell for me.  No thank you.  I would much rather be the questionable one who these ladies see as someone they don’t want in their cliquey club.  I will not be converted.

Now here is the other side of this wanna-be rebel personality….Not to long ago I was hanging out at our local hockey rink. Wait, I don’t think we were actually at the rink, but at some hockey event.  People in the hockey world range big time.  You get the athletes, the tough-guys, the white trash {not to be confused with the NASCAR type of white trash….hockey white trash is different…except for the mullet.  There are always mullets involved with both.}.  There are the has-beens of hockey and the never-beens.  The families and the beer drinkers.  I kinda fall into a couple of the later categories.  A friend of mine, Dale, described me once… to me.  He falls in the “athlete” category here.  Not that it matters.  Here is his observation.  Dale said…dramatic pause….. I was like “the perfect Nebraska housewife”.  Excuse me?!?  In my mind, that includes the following: An apron, a garden, a white picket fence, that damn dreaded mini van and of course, a smile.  Oh. Hell. No.  I have no idea where he got this impression.  I guess I don’t fall into the “hockey white trash” category and I usually come to games put together and not in some old sweatshirt and ponytail like I just rolled out of bed.  I guess it was a compliment.  Kinda. What it comes down to this….I need to be much more assertive when it comes to my kids youth hockey.  I will show him.  That sweet Nebraska-mom nonsense must stop.

There are people I hang out with who see me as patient and calm…laid back.  Then there are those who constantly are telling me to relax and stop worrying about everything.  I have a few friends who think I am the craziest thing in the world because I love to travel to off-the-wall places, don’t have a problem trying unusual foods, and have no fear of heights {as long as it’s for the sake of a picture}.  Then there are those who find me totally dorky; I know fun facts from the 80’s, rarely wear high heals and when I do, I always feel like I am playing dress up. I can barely make it through a workout session on the treadmill without a near accident.  {It’s not pretty.  It’s rather goofy.  I seriously fear one day it will be caught on tape and will be a YouTube sensation rather than the $10,000 winner of America’s Funniest Videos.} I’m in my late thirties…I mean I am 29 years old and just a few weeks ago I went out for a beer after work for the first time in my life.  I didn’t even know of a place to go.

Basicly what I am trying to say is that I have multiple personalities. Please don’t confuse this with the actual disorder called multiple personality disorder.  I don’t have that.  At least I don’t think I do. I do have, as I suspect we all have, many sides that aren’t necessarily shared with everyone at the same time.  I think its pretty cool. Like me.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s