I was always one of those “misfit kids”. You know the ones who don’t really “fit” anywhere. I spent years and years honing my chameleon tendencies to fit any and every social situation. I could change my stripes at a moments notice. I could adapt to fit in everywhere but I never really belonged anywhere.
I never could find a place with “the girls”. The trouble started in early elementary school when I found myself the fallen angel from the mean girls clan. This rivaled “The Plastics” (ala Lindsay Lohan) and would haunt me all the way through high school.
I wasn’t a “girly-girl”- never had been. In kindergarten my best friends were boys and we spent hours climbing and falling out of trees. I remember running around shirtless with the neighborhood boys and being incensed when I was told that “Girls don’t do that”.
All the way through college I found myself as “one of the boys” opting for jeans and beer as opposed to mixers with fun dress up themes. The problem with having best friends as guys was inevitably one of us would eventually develop feelings for each other beyond the realm of friendship. Which unfortunately, in my case, led to the end of many many friendships as we could never seem to overcome the awkwardness once the truth had been revealed.
It wasn’t until my mid-30s that I began to develop long lasting friendships with women. Enter: #mytribe.
You see I have found a group of women who aren’t “girly girls” and who don’t dress to the nines to go out. Our girls night is affectionately referred to as “Beer and Bathrobes” because that is exactly what it is. We all convene at a friend’s house, we bring our bathrobes, build a bonfire in the fire pit, and drink beer by the bottle.
I have found the people who finally accept me for me. You see I don’t have to put on makeup or worry about my nails when I go to girls night. In fact, most times I show up with no makeup and still in my PJs (or yoga pants).
We have an ongoing group text message that daily sends me into hysterics because of the brutal honesty displayed. In our “old” age we have all developed digestive issues and and hilariously text stories of “close calls”.
The honesty and acceptance I have found with these women is unmatched in any other experience in my life.
We met for brunch this morning (as so many women do) but instead of putting on jewelry and heels we all dressed in our #brunchpants. Now brunchpants can be a lot of things. They can be stretchy yoga pants, sweatpants, or as I displayed my post-pregnancy pants that are two sizes too big just to accommodate the amount of food we planned on eating.
There’s not a lot of women who embrace their #brunchpants. In fact, I
would hazard a guess that most “ladies who lunch” or “brunch” if you will most often show up in fabulous dresses with matching accessories. I’m not judging these women you see, if that’s your thing then hats off! It’s just not me.
I am a jeans wearing, beer drinking, Uggs sporting, hot mess of a mom. And I have finally found #mytribe.
I am grateful for these women and these relationships beyond measure. My only hope is that you have found your tribe too #brunchpants or no.