Mismatched Moments
Last week I was invited to speak to my friends mom's Book Club in West Hartford, Connecticut. There are barely words for how excited I was about it! First of all, I loved that they had read my book, I love moms, I love the suburbs, and I was pretty confident that there was going to be wine and cheese plate at this event and I LOVE wine and cheese.
I am really lucky because I work virtually, so I can work from anywhere, so I planned to work from a coffee shop in Hartford for the day. The most important thing to me was that I wanted to be set up and totally ready to work at 9:00 am. So I got up at 5 so I could take the earliest train into Hartford. I showered, straightened my hair, put on my "I'm an Author" outfit, and did some basic eyeliner and mascara so I wouldn't creep onto the Amtrak train looking like a sleepy zombie. In the half dark, I rooted around in my sock drawer to find a pair of socks that I could wear under my black boots, and for the life of me I couldn't find a matching pair.
I did, however, find two that were approximately the same. I didn't think that it would be a big deal, who sees socks anyway? I am a busy lady - I had a train to catch, and if I am going to be honest, I was way more concerned about getting to Penn Station in time to get a buttered flagel (that's a flat bagel, its amazing) from Zaro's ,then my socks.
When I arrived in Hartford, a light snow flurry started to fall, and I was so charmed as I drank my fancy coffee and used the free wifi that came with it. As the day continued, the snow kept falling, and falling until it turned into a full on blizzard. The cute little black booties I had put on happily that morning now seemed really inappropriate.
When I arrived at my friends mom's Book Club meeting, another thing became very clear - those snow soaked black booties were absolutely not going to be be worn into this lovely persons home. I was going to have to take off those boots, and expose my shame - that even though I wrote a book, pay my taxes and work full time, I am not capable of putting together two matching socks.
This is something that I do often, I don't match my socks. In the grand scheme of things, it never seemed that important to me to have something match that no one could see. I was always paying attention to different things. This oversight is something that I get teased about. And it gives me this feeling that my not wearing matched socks, or needing someone to call my phone just to confirm it's in my shit show of a purse makes me a scatterbrain, and kind of childish.
In that moment where I was standing in my mismatched socks in a strangers living room, I don't think about the many, many times that I have absolutely had my shit together. Because even though the mean voice in my head would like to tell you different, I keep it together a lot. I pay all of my bills on time, I have travelled around the world by myself, I know how to rent a car, I've been gainfully employed for 12 years, I remember to tell my parents I love them before I hang up the phone, I can tell from the tone of a text if a friend is having a bad day - and I know that they need a call, I try my best to be a good person, who is loving, and kind - and sometimes when I am focused on those things, making sure the striped sock and the polka dot sock match under my boots just doesn't seem that important.
The reason why these mismatched moments feel so intense is they are an external reflection that there are parts of my life that aren't perfect. But to be honest, even though its not a perfect life, it is usually pretty seamless. But, I don't congratulate myself when I move through life like a hot knife through butter, instead I assume that this level of ease is normal. It isn't. Life is messy, and as my mismatched socks will tell you, so am I.
So, as I slipped off my boots and left them by the door, I exhaled and said what I have said to myself before every challenge in my life 'all I can do is my best', and I walked into the kitchen with a huge smile on my face started to hug strangers - which felt amazing.
Then I sat in a circle in the living room and talked with his wonderful group of women about the worst thing that ever happened to me, and I had the joy of listening to their lives, and what was happening in their hearts, and I cried and hugged people so hard I could feel their heartbeats.
With tears in my eyes, cheese in my belly and a glass of wine in my hand I wasn't thinking about my mismatched socks. I got the feeling that the people that were there weren't thinking about it either. The focus was on something bigger, brighter and more important than the difference between polka dots and stripes.
I am really lucky because I work virtually, so I can work from anywhere, so I planned to work from a coffee shop in Hartford for the day. The most important thing to me was that I wanted to be set up and totally ready to work at 9:00 am. So I got up at 5 so I could take the earliest train into Hartford. I showered, straightened my hair, put on my "I'm an Author" outfit, and did some basic eyeliner and mascara so I wouldn't creep onto the Amtrak train looking like a sleepy zombie. In the half dark, I rooted around in my sock drawer to find a pair of socks that I could wear under my black boots, and for the life of me I couldn't find a matching pair.
I did, however, find two that were approximately the same. I didn't think that it would be a big deal, who sees socks anyway? I am a busy lady - I had a train to catch, and if I am going to be honest, I was way more concerned about getting to Penn Station in time to get a buttered flagel (that's a flat bagel, its amazing) from Zaro's ,then my socks.
When I arrived in Hartford, a light snow flurry started to fall, and I was so charmed as I drank my fancy coffee and used the free wifi that came with it. As the day continued, the snow kept falling, and falling until it turned into a full on blizzard. The cute little black booties I had put on happily that morning now seemed really inappropriate.
When I arrived at my friends mom's Book Club meeting, another thing became very clear - those snow soaked black booties were absolutely not going to be be worn into this lovely persons home. I was going to have to take off those boots, and expose my shame - that even though I wrote a book, pay my taxes and work full time, I am not capable of putting together two matching socks.
This is something that I do often, I don't match my socks. In the grand scheme of things, it never seemed that important to me to have something match that no one could see. I was always paying attention to different things. This oversight is something that I get teased about. And it gives me this feeling that my not wearing matched socks, or needing someone to call my phone just to confirm it's in my shit show of a purse makes me a scatterbrain, and kind of childish.
In that moment where I was standing in my mismatched socks in a strangers living room, I don't think about the many, many times that I have absolutely had my shit together. Because even though the mean voice in my head would like to tell you different, I keep it together a lot. I pay all of my bills on time, I have travelled around the world by myself, I know how to rent a car, I've been gainfully employed for 12 years, I remember to tell my parents I love them before I hang up the phone, I can tell from the tone of a text if a friend is having a bad day - and I know that they need a call, I try my best to be a good person, who is loving, and kind - and sometimes when I am focused on those things, making sure the striped sock and the polka dot sock match under my boots just doesn't seem that important.
The reason why these mismatched moments feel so intense is they are an external reflection that there are parts of my life that aren't perfect. But to be honest, even though its not a perfect life, it is usually pretty seamless. But, I don't congratulate myself when I move through life like a hot knife through butter, instead I assume that this level of ease is normal. It isn't. Life is messy, and as my mismatched socks will tell you, so am I.
So, as I slipped off my boots and left them by the door, I exhaled and said what I have said to myself before every challenge in my life 'all I can do is my best', and I walked into the kitchen with a huge smile on my face started to hug strangers - which felt amazing.
Then I sat in a circle in the living room and talked with his wonderful group of women about the worst thing that ever happened to me, and I had the joy of listening to their lives, and what was happening in their hearts, and I cried and hugged people so hard I could feel their heartbeats.
With tears in my eyes, cheese in my belly and a glass of wine in my hand I wasn't thinking about my mismatched socks. I got the feeling that the people that were there weren't thinking about it either. The focus was on something bigger, brighter and more important than the difference between polka dots and stripes.
Mismatched socks and broken daffodils are picture perfect to me.
Hi Katie, saying hello from Denver, I just wanted you to know that I started your book at 9:00 last night and stayed up until 1:00 reading the whole thing. I LOVED IT! Your voice is so relatable, and your ability to find humor in your situation but be equally as thoughtful was really lovely. I also think, based on your Midwestern charm and love of cheese, we'd just be great friends in life :) Anyways I don't want to ramble but just wanted to tell you what an incredible impression it made on me - and good for you for kicking so much a** (my attempts to be family friendly?). Thank you for writing your story!
ReplyDeleteHi Emmy! Thank you so much for reading, and for writing!! I cannot believe that you finished the book so fast! You are amazingly fast reader, and I am so honored that you loved it!! Thank you so much for your kind words, I am smiling my BIGGEST smile right now <3 Sister, anyone who is into cheese and likes to charm is my kind of person!! You did not ramble at all, and I cannot tell you how much it means to me that it made an impression on you. I am grateful to you for sharing your feelings on the book - sincerely, it means the world! I hope that you have a wonderful weekend, and I am sending big hugs from Brooklyn!
DeleteHeart,
Katie