Accomodate No One

In a couple of days, I am having a birthday.  Yesterday, the kids and I went to a friend's house for a birthday feast in my honor, and the card she gave me said "It's your birthday.  Accomodate NO ONE."  I have been thinking about that simple statement a lot since last night; it resonated with me, especially in light of my upcoming long weekend in Seattle.

I used to sort of fit in there, when I lived there-when I pretended much more convincingly than I am able to now, really.   And the last time I went, there were no pretenses necessary-we were there to bury a 33 year old woman who had to leave her husband and her four young, lovely children.  No need at that point to pretend that we were doing better than we were; grief is ugly and snotty and painful, but also very real, and we were all bound by the common thread of losing someone who was vital to our lives.

Three years have passed since I have been back; there have been many things keeping me away.  Some of them, like work and finances and a new baby and three other children, were valid reasons, others far less so, but things have worked out this year that I can go with little or no expense on my part.  The arrangements for the kids have all been made to my satisfaction, I am slowly clearing my desk off at work, and there really aren't any valid reasons now for not making the trip.

Still, I have fear.  I am older now, settled into my life in this small town, with its small town ways.  My job is a professional one, to be sure, but we don't operate on the same scale as agencies in other places do.  Like I said, small town.  We know about our client's kids, their divorces and deaths.  In my case, I often have children the same age as theirs, which is another common thread.  It is safe here for me, on a lot of different levels.  In short, for the most part I feel like this is home.  Which isn't to say I don't suffer from insecurity or jealousy or envy or any of those other base emotions-they are just to a lesser extent.

I keep thinking of that card, though, and remembering that I  am going to be 36 in a few days.  I have sure wasted a whole lot of time trying to be someone I am not; I work on this daily, and my success can be measured in the number of real friends I have, who love me because I am who I am.  It cannot be measured in financial ways, but it can in the fact that I have really good kids who love me.  It can be measured by the fact that when an incident with a potentially HUGE impact on our agency occurred, where my integrity and ability to do my job was questioned, my boss backed me up 100% with no hesitation-and was proven right in his judgement.  Haven't I spent too many years being worried about not fitting in? 

So I am going to go, and I am going to hop off the plane wearing my favorite jeans and my red cowboy boots-even though I am not a cowboy.  I am going to laugh at things I think are funny, and cry when I feel the need to.  More than anything, I am going to carry the words of that card with me, close to my heart, to be myself and accomodate NO ONE.