The first 30 some years of my life I was a conformist. Not just a conformist, but a conformist who is also a chameleon. I would do what I need to do to fit in and be accepted. Even if that meant being a different person with different groups of people. I never rebelled. Ever. One time I stayed out late, I did not even have a curfew, but I did not notice time had passed so quickly and did not tell my parents. That was about it. I had friends that experienced with all the normal stuff, but I never did. I wore the right clothes; I had the right hairstyle (or at least I tried, I was always a year behind and didn’t have the money to totally fit in, but I did my best). I craved acceptance. By everyone and anyone.
By 30 I had done exactly what I was supposed to do: college, marriage, house, job, 2 kids, mini van, suburbs. Now I am not complaining, I would not change that for the world, but I was ready to change myself. I was starting to figure myself out. And I started to understand rebellion. I did not want to conform anymore. I wanted to be me, and make my own choices and think through what was best for me. So I got my nose pierced. Then I got a tattoo. Yup, those were my two big acts of rebellion. Now, I am 38 and am still feeling like my outside does not match my inside.
I am starting to understand why people dress in unique ways, and dye their hair crazy colors. I get tattoos and piercings and funky make up. It is not necessarily about rebellion, it is about not being the same.
I remember the first time I was in New York City. I was walking around feeling the rush of big city chaos and as I looked around I realized I could not see one tall Dutch person wearing clothes from the GAP outlet. Not one. And even though I still looked the same, I finally felt unique.
I just invested in some fabulous purple glasses and now I may get a crazy hair cut, get the nose pierced again). I just feel like there needs to be some hint, at a first impression, that I am not ordinary. I want to see my personality reflected in the mirror. And maybe none of that should matter, but what matters is that I am finally ready to do something that I like, as opposed to worrying what someone else with think. It is about making a choice for me. And I still crave acceptance, but I know that I also have to accept myself. And that is a pretty rebellious thing for this girl to do.