A New Bloom

A child wants what she sees and cannot have,but that is not the end.Forever creative, she makes what she seesand in the end,becomes a joke to thosewho actually have.Head held high, she strides through life,defiant and not caring on the outsideyet bleeding from the soul on the inside. A woman wants what she sees and cannot have,but that is not the end.Yearning to fill an emotional need with material satisfaction,she shortcuts to get something like what she sees.The knock-offs fall apart,exposing the lieor the truth:She couldn’t afford the real thingand in the end,becomes the joke to thosewho actually have.Head held high, she strides through life,defiant and happybecause she figured out how to be contentin her own nerdy skin.

Like so many children, I wanted the things I couldn’t have. I went through a spell with mechanical pencils; I blame my dad, who used them for work but wouldn’t let me have his (they were quite fancy, which made them even more desirable). Other students had them but when it came time to buy school supplies, I was always told I had to get the standard pencils that had to be sharpened. I did love my Ticonderogas, but still.As a pre-teen I wanted a certain brand of sneakers that were quite expensive. Again with the ‘no way’ response when I asked. I tried disguising the cheap, five-and-dime shoes my mom had purchased that year, to no avail. ‘Nerd’ was probably the kindest name I was called.Fast forward to adulthood and for a time, I hadn’t quite learned my lesson. I had a spell of designer bag envy. There was something about those supple leather crap carriers that drew me, yet in my heart of hearts, there was no way I could justify paying thousands of dollars. Particularly since, in truth, I was a ‘put it in my pockets’ sort of girl. However, I wanted what I wanted and looked for shortcuts. Call the knock-off brigade. And you know how that usually turns out — insignias fall off, buckles or latches break, or more like it, the people who can actually purchase such baubles can spot the difference from miles away.I woke up one day to realize I didn’t need any of that to be okay.I was okay, just the way I was.I realized that most of the people I saw with those pencils, sneakers, or handbags couldn’t reimage computers, rewire a house for sound, or write strange tales.But I could.And do.I realized that most of those people who had those things would, even today, call me a nerd.And I am.But what fun I have being one.Be who you are. Love who you are. Any less would be selling yourself short. And that would be a shame.Full disclosure #1: my uncle’s wife once called me eccentric when I was a child; as a young adult, she gave me a small Louis Vuitton bag and I was in hog heaven. The strap broke recently (I’ve had it for nearly 30 years) and I threw it away.Full disclosure #2: I discovered that ‘real’ (as in ‘authentic’) expensive sneakers aren’t supposed to be hip — they are supposed to serve a purpose.Finally, full disclosure #3: I still love (and on occasion buy) mechanical pencils …