Being Moldy...

I am kind of saddened I fit some cookie cutter mold. I kind of always thought I stood out a little. But apparently through much self examination and a wide eyed awakening, from several relatives about soccer moms and mini vans, I have discovered I am so moldy it hurts. It was hardly my intention to be that person. I used to think I really was different. I worked awfully hard at it. But through my children my personality has softened. I am not sure when it happened or maybe I was always this way and lived in an illusion of difference. Maybe I was always the PTA lady, it just took a few years to emerge. I don't pluck my eyebrows, does that make me stand out? How about wearing slippers to the post office, no, that just means I'm lazy. I suppose it all comes down to a frame of spirit. Am I held back because the opinions of others, or am I really the way I am because I like me. Sometimes probably a little of both. Am I a follower or a leader or neither, am I just there. Am I truly free. Is my spirit free. Is that what breaks the mold- the freedom to express myself however I see fit. The confidence in my own actions, to not hold back. I have compassion for all of this, how can one be 30 years old, and not feel like they truly fit anywhere, and then that's where it all becomes reality because the place I truly fit is in my home, that's where I belong, where I feel important, where I am not judged or owned by any one stereotype, I can sing loudly and off tune, I can wear an old cure shirt and flannel pants, and my hair can stick in crazy directions for hours without any one staring. My cookie cutter is my home and I safely reside from the harshness of it all deep inside of its hard exterior. I guess when it all comes down to it, I really do like cookies anyway, especially chocolate chip.