The Single Woman’s Dash of Sass: Embracing Your Inner Miss Fit
Quote of the Day:
“The rugged individualist is too often mistaken for the misfit.” ~Lewis Lapham
The Single Woman Says:
In various stages of my life, I’ve come up against people who, because I preferred to march to the beat of my own drummer, tried their best to keep me out of the band. In 8th grade, when I ecstatically made the cheerleading squad for the first time ever (and girls, you know what a big deal cheerleading is in middle school), I was banned by my teacher from also being a member of the yearbook staff because, quote: he “didn’t want one of those girls in his class who thought they were going to do it all.” After graduating college with a degree in journalism, I was told time and time again: “Get a REAL job, Mandy. You’ll never actually be able to get a job in TV.” Coincidentally, I went on to work for the local ABC affiliate in Nashville before moving on to Country Music Television. At another one of my places of employment (which shall remain nameless, of course) – I was shot dirty looks over the cubicle all day by my boss for wearing stilettos to work every day (“We’re going to have to break you of that habit!” she said) and for having lots of male friends (“Boys are always sniffing around your cubicle.”) before being unceremoniously laid off due to “budget constraints.” Apparently the budget was so constrained that a week later, a much more beige, bland, vanilla replacement took up residence in my cubicle.
Maybe some of you have struggled with the same thing…the same feeling of “not quite fitting in.” Today I urge you, my rugged individualists, to redefine the word “misfit.” To look past the negative connotation of the word and decide, once and for all, that it is better to be a misfit than a one-size-fits-all. So WHAT if you’re an acquired taste? Maybe you (like me) are neurotic and messy and opinionated and stubborn…maybe you think so far outside the box that the box doesn’t even exist for you…and maybe you’ve gone through your life feeling as though you never quite fit. I say, right this very minute…celebrate it. Throw your weirdness and your foibles and your quirks in the air like confetti and party like it’s 1999. And as for the people who choose to look down on you for refusing to fit in: Let them stare. Let them have their cage. Your multi-colored feathers were never meant to be beige!