As a teenager, I was consumed by the quest for coolness. Despite being academically inclined and generally friendly, I never quite found my place among the so-called cool kids. I was the girl they sometimes asked for help with homework or occasionally invited to parties out of pity. I muddled through those years until I finally let go of my obsession with fitting in. Thankfully, I forged some incredible friendships during that time, friendships that have endured into adulthood.
Then came motherhood, and everything changed. Now, as a mom of three, I look back on my teen angst and find it almost comical. It’s not just a chuckle; it’s the kind of laugh that starts in your gut and ends with tears streaming down your face. My daily life revolves around the basics: ensuring my kids are dressed, finding lost toys (like the elusive Peppa Pig spaceship), and, if I’m lucky, squeezing in a meal. If only I could give my younger self some sage advice.
Growing up in the ’90s, I was influenced by the era’s trends, including the infamous “Rachel” haircut. At 15, I caved to peer pressure and ended up with a disastrous “pob” after a botched salon visit. Instead of leaving as a chic blend of Posh Spice and Gwyneth Paltrow, I emerged looking like one of the Taylor boys from “Home Improvement.” I swore I would never let anyone dictate my hairstyle again.
Fast forward nearly two decades, and I would gladly welcome someone else’s opinion on my hair, even if it means making a questionable choice. My current hairstyle is quintessential “Mom of three” — rarely washed, often unstyled, and occasionally thrown up in a messy bun. Mornings are a chaotic race against time, where the choice often comes down to whether my youngest wears socks and whether my oldest brushes his teeth.
Clothing choices used to be a source of anxiety for me. Now, my criteria are simple: Is it clean? Does it work for the weather? Did I wear it yesterday? Usually, I can check those boxes. One of my New Year’s resolutions was to lay out my clothes the night before, but that hasn’t materialized. After family dinners, I’m too exhausted to think about the next day’s outfits.
I’ve embraced the fact that my style may resemble my mother’s. If she offered me her clothes, I would be overjoyed and wear them without hesitation. The beauty of my current disheveled approach is that when I do dress up, people genuinely notice and compliment my effort. And on those rare occasions, I do it for myself, which feels empowering.
I’ve come to terms with the fact that I will never be cool, and I’m completely okay with that. I want my children to reach the same realization. It’s painful to witness them change their interests to fit in or hide their favorite toys because someone else deemed them “too childish.”
In our home, we prioritize embracing individuality over conforming to societal expectations. I want to preserve the essence of carefree living, keeping it close for when my kids enter their tumultuous teenage years. I have a feeling they’ll need it.
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Summary
In reflecting on my journey from a cool-seeking teenager to a contented mother, I’ve learned to embrace my individuality and prioritize my children’s emotional well-being over societal pressures. While I may never be trendy, I’ve found joy in being authentically me, and I hope to instill that same confidence in my kids as they grow.