The Beginning

Figuring out where to start is tricky. There are so many questions…do I begin here, or there; do I start now; am I even ready to begin? Are others watching; are they waiting for me; will anyone notice; does it matter if anyone notices? In the end, I suppose, the one to whom it matters most, is our self. So, Self…how about we begin?

As human beings, we are out there in the world, many of us growing up with the idea that one day we will marry someone we love and have a family. Girls seem to grow up planning their weddings a la Disney fairy tale. Boys…I don’t know what boys typically dream of or expect! I can tell you that, for some reason unbeknownst to me, I didn’t ponder those things all too much. In high school I predicted I’d be a teacher or psychologist, I’d write an amazing book or ten and be a guest on Oprah. I would have a house with a stream in the back yard and the yard would be lined with nine dog houses for my nine dogs (no; no idea why nine dogs). Eventually, I might adopt a child – a 12 year old boy. Why is that? Well, big kids need a forever home, too, and that’s a tough age even in a perfect world.

Today, I am married to the person meant to be my human. We started planning our wedding once we were engaged; i.e. didn’t ever think about it a minute sooner. We have a couple of cats; dogs are lovable but too high maintenance. Kids could have been in the mix but it didn’t turn out that way, which we are okay with. We have many amazing children in our lives and it’s a thrill to watch them grow, change and work towards the adults they will become. The two of us are certainly not miserly but do live well within our means. We have a 1950s cape and are glad to have, “only,” 1400 square feet to attempt to maintain and just about an acre of land to keep in shape.

I remember that when I had my first apartment, I was out shopping with my mom when I remarked that I wished there was a magazine dedicated to apartment living: small spaces, rented spaces that you cannot alter but dress up, and style that is attainable to one living in an apartment on an apartment budget. (You are correct. This was pre-ApartmentTherapy.com.) Everything out there seemed to be about styling the fairy tale house with a fairy tale budget. Living in a small home, I still find that magazines feature the fairy tales over real life.

Women’s magazines boast style, wardrobe choices, product reviews, brands to love. I don’t know about you, but I am not going to buy that $300 shirt or the $600 shoes. And even if I could, why would I? Sure there are some magazines that show real world choices, but the 80/20 rule definitely applies, here. Please: show me something I’ll actually find at a store near me, purchase and wear to a regular ol’ work or family event.

When we, as people, look out into the world, we want to find ourselves out there – we want to see ourselves in the pages of a magazine; we want to see ourselves in the story we binge watch on Netflix or catch at the movies. We want to see ourselves reflected back at us and we want to find that thing that makes us think: Yes! THIS is totally me! This story, this thing, is totally me, my style, my kind of thing, the thing that I’m after, too!

Where am I, world? Who out there knows me? Surely I am not so unique on this planet that I cannot find myself in the beautiful glossy pages of the magazines I so love to peruse for hours on end in Barnes & Noble.  Where is the magazine about the girl who works full time, is not a travelling blogger or entrepreneur, who is not furnishing a palatial home, who is not feeding a family of five or homeschooling three children? Where’s the gal who is not drinking wine while trolling the web for $600 shoes while planning a themed party with handmade decorations and spectacular hors d’oeuvres?

Sure there are some magazines I love and a few websites I really dig – I’ll tell you about them sometime. However, since I can only find these things by seriously reaching back to my hunter-gatherer genes, I decided it’s time to create my own place. And so, Self, here I am. Right here. I hope the 20, of the proverbial 80/20, will find a home here, too – and maybe some of the 80 will see a bit of themselves here in this little place. This place may not be full of fairy tale glamour – but I hope it will be filled with the wonder of, “real life.”

I hope you find this place welcoming, new friends. It will be here for you, and you can stop in anytime you like. It can be your place, too.