Cut From A Different Cloth

Last night I went out to dinner.

 The occasion was the once-a-month outing of my local chapter of the MOMS Club. (MOMS=Moms Offering Moms Support) This is a group I have been a member of since just before DD was born. For the past year or more, I have continued to pay my dues, but I really haven't participated in anything. Then I received the newsletter, and the current prez. appealed to all members to give some thoughts as to why membership might be down, and to share why some members aren't participating very often. This hit home, and I wondered why I had stopped going. I vowed to get involved again. Fast forward to last night's MNO (Mom's Night Out)

So I went. Only the 2nd one I've ever attended, in 5.5 years of being a member. I was the first one there. I sat at the bar and ordered a beer, and felt foolish. I checked the door about every 10 seconds until two other women showed up, about 10 or 15 minutes later. We sat, and a couple others trickled in. There were five of us total. All of these women were familiar to me-long-timers. So I sipped from the bottle of my Amstel Light, while each of the others ordered wine, asking this question and that question, and referred to the wines as "cabs" and other names I don't remember. I don't drink wine. In fact, I hate the stuff. The reason has nothing to do with the fact that a glass of wine can cost up to $9.00 a glass. Yeah, really. The conversation opened with an exchange between two women about jewelry. I observed, but again, from afar. I wear jewelry. Plastic, for the most part. One bracelet that my daughter made for me for Christmas. Much of the shine and color has faded from being in the shower a number of times. One necklace from a beading kit of DD's. I actually made it, while she made a similar one. It has the first initial of each of our names: JEDS. Like this blog. The "chain" is stretchy plastic, and the beads are colorful block letters and round beads. I also don a Tiffany's heart pendant, a gift from hubby some years ago. I credit these kind women for oooing and ahhing over my blig!!! But it sets me apart, again. I tried to appear interested while they talked about their phases with this type of stone or that company or whatnot. I think stones are pretty, too. But I'm ok with looking at them, and passing them by. We did cover the topic of our kids' schools, something I have something to say about. But as we talk I observe that for the most part, while I have on what I had been wearing all day, jeans and a sweater top, these women had dressed up a bit. Not fancy, but chosen. Oh, and my hair, as usual, was pulled back. There were no other scrunchies at the table. And make up? I haven't worn it in years and years, and I am not likely to start. =) I'm not crunchy. I just don't care about all that. It's not rebellion, just indifference!

I ended up enjoying myself, and was proud of myself for going... All the others were gracious, and one was sweet enough to give me a hug before I left. =)

I still always end up feeling that something is inherently different about me. Like my X-chromosome is chipped or something. It used to upset me a great deal. Now it's just an observation, and a reminder. The fact is, it's my attitude as much as anything else. I see the differences, and do nothing about it. I want to be accepted and have friends, but not enough to start to wear blahdeblah-style jewelry and those cute boots or whatnot. So I realize that it's just a matter of being me while allowing others to be themselves, and going with it. Right? If I want to belong, I've got to GO to the outings, and BE at the play dates. So what if I don't have the gift of gab, or know anything about the current clothing or hair style, or the latest fitness fad. There are lots of kind people who will work to find a common interest with me if I am willing to work at it, too. And so. Time to make an effort. Not to change myself, but to allow myself to be me with other people and be ok with that.