One of the most amazing (and perhaps one of the most perplexing) things about human beings is our ability to hold within us so much that is vastly different and even seemingly opposing.
I have always said that I am most intrigued and for that matter most attracted to people who look just a little bit off. For example, I dated someone who for the vast majority of his life looked, well, like he had just rolled out of bed. He is known for constantly (and perhaps only) wearing white V-neck tees, and I liked it. Well, I suppose on occasion he branches out into black or even gray V-neck tees. Anyway, I liked it so much that even when we were in separate states, I would see someone who looked a-mess and think that person was him. I struggle to describe this oddity; it doesn’t sound so nice to say: you’re off, maybe even a little bit grungy, and I like you for it.
Today, though, as I looked at myself one last time in the mirror before work, I thought: I’m a little bit off. My hair doesn’t really jive with my clothes and for that matter, neither does my watch. An earring fell out of my ear on Monday and I just never put another one back in. I wear my zebra striped flats even when they don’t match just cause they are super comfy. I like colored eyeliners but don’t really wear any other make-up. I am a little bit off. However, each little inconsistent piece reflects me, and, ya know, I wouldn’t change it for the world. (And I won’t!) I am messy. I am complex. I hold within me total contradictions. I definitely don’t fit into any stereotype or mold. My lace bras with little bows don’t really go with my highlighter-orange shoes, but they are both me—mt
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