She’s a bad a$$, my alter-ego.
She’s tough. She’s tattooed and pierced. She rides a Harley and can hold her own in any confrontation. She’s strong, independent, drinks beer, and shoots whiskey. She’s in amazing shape and turns heads, not that she cares. She makes her own rules and does what she wants, when she wants. She doesn’t care what anyone thinks of her. She knows who she is and she doesn’t take crap from anyone.
I miss her.
It’s been years since she’s shown her face. I mean, she wouldn’t be caught dead in a minivan, so I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised. I used to catch glimpses of her here and there, way back when. She’d show herself in college. A few times after I was married. But she’s been away for quite some time.
Recently, she’s popped back up. She showed up when I noticed an edgy haircut on a waitress with a nose piercing. She roused when I started running again. She perked up when I finally decided get that next tattoo I’ve been wanting for years. No, I haven’t actually gotten it yet, but at least it’s in the picture.
But she’s back. I’m not entirely sure why, but I think the restlessness I’ve been feeling over the last few years has a little to do with her. She wants me to take more risks. Be less boring. Be more confident. She wants me to figure out what the heck happened! She’s wondering when I lost that part of me.
Now, don’t worry. I have no plans to get a Harley anymore (tears), but I do plan to get myself back in shape so I can totally rock my minivan til I swap it out for something less minivan-ish. I don’t plan to get a bunch of piercings, but I will absolutely get my tattoo(s). Little by little, I’m going to get back in touch with that free-spirit side. I don’t plan to be stupid or do anything crazy – I mean, I am a married mom, after all – but I owe it to myself and my kids to be a better me. A more ME me. And my better me involves a dash of that alter-ego. Not a lot. Just a dash.
So don’t be surprised if in the near future you see tattoo pictures, or a new, edgy haircut. It may be a mid-life crisis…. Or it could just be my alter-ego peeking through.