I’m just going to come right out and admit it: I don’t identify with perfect, sweet women at all. I’m not saying that none of my friends are sweet…just the opposite…they all have sweet moments…but if they get into my inner-circle, they are more likely to be feisty and challenging than they are perfect and sweet. The problem with this? Well, I live in the Bible Belt…there are stereotypes that exist about women from the South for a reason…I ought to know…I’m a Georgia Peach and I can do the hospitable, demure, good-natured, agreeable, Southern Belle thing to a tee. But in truth, I’m ornery, strong-willed, independent, and I get my highs from thinking about stuff and working with my hands. (I spent my childhood playing football with the neighborhood boys, with skinned knees, and wearing my brothers’ hand-me-downs.) Although I am good at it, I hate pretending and I feel like people who do are cheating the people around them…if you are pretending to be someone else, then the people spending time with you are only getting to know a facade…what a waste to invest time and find that the person you invested in doesn’t even exist.
The problem? So glad you asked. I don’t know if I simply prefer people who are deeply genuine and authentic or if I’m just a bigoted person who doesn’t like nice people. I tend to think that it’s the former rather than the latter because my friends rock and they are nice…but there is just such a level of depth and sincerity to them that I am drawn to. I don’t know if this is true or not but, it seems to me, that their depth (along with my own) seems to stem from hardships that they (and I) have endured. Some of those hardships have led to depth of character and true learning of life’s lessons. Overly-sweet people bother me…I think I have decided that they are either false or shallow (you know…have led such a charmed life that they haven’t learned any lessons the hard way…thus, haven’t developed any calluses in their personalities) and that probably isn’t fair but it’s what happens in my head.
I prefer to hang out with women who admit to having faults or short-comings and sometimes even flaunt them. I love to spend time with women who don’t keep a perfect house and whose kids don’t behave perfectly all the time. I like women who look at the ideal created by pinterest and say “Nope…that ain’t happening today!” I love women who say “I’m sorry…I screwed up…and boy howdy, let me count the ways…” I can not get enough of women who say “I struggle in this way; help hold me accountable to taking it to God.” I absolutely adore women who walk around in work out pants (whether or not they work out) and have animal fur on their clothes along with baby spit up, lint, and/or part of tonight’s dinner. I am so strongly drawn to the imperfect…maybe because I identify so strongly with the imperfect. I have a very difficult time identifying with people who have it all in place…maybe it’s because that is so far from my reality that I think it can not possibly, in a million, zillion years be reality.
I know that much of my depth and real-ness are rooted in lessons I learned in the hardest-possible ways. So, maybe that makes me a reverse-snob of some sort…but, it’s me…the real me. Sometimes, I don’t know if that is something I should embrace or something I should try to fix. I don’t know if it is beautiful imperfection that leaves room for Jesus to work or if it is simply feeling over-whelmed when I look at the “good people” and trying to put a positive spin on my lack of pursuing that type of lifestyle. Does anyone else identify with this? Or am I just a weird version of bigot and didn’t realize it until now?