Thursday, January 3, 2013
I’m just a girl.
I loathe to use the word “woman” when I talk about myself because I simply don’t feel like I’m there yet…never mind the fact that I’ve reached the quarter-century mark and I’ve had a stray silver hair here and there since I was twenty.
When I think of a woman, I think of someone who has her shit together – steady career, car payment, and steady man; maybe even a baby or two. When I think of me, I think of this wayward gypsy soul who more often than not forgets to brush her teeth before she goes to bed. My nails are always chipped, my bed is never made, and my laundry is rarely folded. “Real” jobs (read: in town) give me massive anxiety attacks because I’d rather talk to cows, horses, dogs, and sagebrush all day than have to wait hand and foot on another human being…I’ve been suffering from depression since I was 15 years old and I still haven’t quite gotten a handle on it.
I write my every thought down in a 98-cent notebook from Wal Mart (covered in peace signs, by the way, because I am inexplicably obsessed with them) and without it I’d go crazy from all of the things that bounce around in my head on a daily basis. My camera is always within my reach and my only goal in life is to take photographs that will show the rest of the world what I see in my adventures…I want to tell the stories of my life with my pictures. I can’t stand coffee but I drink Dr. Pepper like most people drink water. I refuse to eat pickled beets.
I drive a hand-me-down GMC pickup which currently has a broken heater (but the radio works!) and there’s usually a spotted dog riding around in the back. I have a hand-me-down colt that is the absolute best thing that ever happened to me. I have a hand-me-down Resistol and a pair of hand-me-down chinks – both given to me out of love (or something like it). My boots were brand new a lot of years ago, and I can’t bear to part with the pink Kelly silver spurs I’ve worn since I was a teenager…even though I get crap wherever I go just because they are pink. I can’t rope worth a damn.
I am drawn to men who are as wild as the desert I live in…the kind that make me think, “he ain’t right but he’s just right for me.” I’ve never had a “normal” relationship and I think that if I did, it would never work out. When I’m with someone, I know we’ll never settle each other down but I think that’s the beauty of it – we’ll run wild and free together and I tend to see so much of my own soul in them. I’d be ashamed of myself if I ever tried to tame them, and I’d never tolerate them trying to change me.
Sometimes I wish I could be a grown-up woman so that I never had to disappoint anyone and could always do what’s expected of me, but that’s just not who I am at my core. I did my best to be her for a long time and I was miserable at the deepest part of me – if I tried to be that person again, I’d probably smother and turn to dust.
I’m just a gypsy cowboy lady.
I’m just a sunflower growing out of control along a gravel road.
I don’t think I’ll ever grow up, at least not in the “traditional” way of growing up. But over the years I’ve grown a soul that can’t be tamed, a heart that cannot be stopped from giving all the love within it, and a pile of wisdom that only can be earned through real experiences. I’m sure this life is not what my dear parents had in mind when I came into this world, but the good Lord built me from a mold that He saw fit to break when He was finished -- the only thing I can do is live how He put it in my heart to live and hope that someday everything I am will create something that makes my loved ones proud.
After all…I’m just a girl.