Goldilocks

This may start off a little familiar. I have written about a similar topic not too long ago, but in light of the post-holiday, return-line season, I found myself, yet again, being challenged to find the right fit. Sometimes when I go shopping I wonder who came up with sizes and why these are the ones that stuck. At what point did society decide that all women must  fall perfectly within these 24 (or so) numbers and decide to start mass producing everything under the impression that there are only 24 different sizes in all of the female population? Well, I'm here to tell you that there are at least 25, because I happen to not fit perfectly in anything. Not even shoe sizes come easy; each pair is always a little to wide, or small, or shaped funny. As I sat in the shoe department recently surrounded by a bunch of boxes and shoes that didn't feel right, I was reminded of an old fairy tale. Then I did what any seemingly happy-go-lucky shoe-loving woman would do, I started thinking about this situation existentially: do I really have a proper fit anywhere? Life should be custom made for each individual, yet here I am living in housing that was created to fit the "average" military family, getting paid based on "average" income, taking classes based on "average" student populous, and trying to find a job in the "average" economic market. I'm not typically the rebellious type, but I can see that this is another situation in which I am not a good fit. I've tried to squeeze into a city that was too small and fluff up my ego to fit a bloated steroetype, but it doesn't work. I am who I am and it has taken me a long time to grow comfortable with the ever-evolving person that I am. It might be a battle to find my place, but I am secure enough to know that this isn't it.

With this epiphany comes another potential problem that Wayne's been calling "the grass is greener" syndrome. I do not want to keep chasing this mirage of paradise simply to find that no matter where I go, I'm the problem that I run into. My solution for this is not to follow Goldi's footsteps and eat blindly from whatever bowl I find more appealing at the moment. Every place I've been so far might not have been the right fit for me, but it was worth it to try on. So, whenever the time comes to make a decision to leave, I want to cautiously consider all aspects. I think I've reached a point where I want the comfort of a perfect fit without feeling like I'm settling into a place that belongs to someone else. Also unlike the coifed towhead that we are familiar with, I am unable to just hop about trying to find the place that is most suited for me. I am not alone in the search and we have obligations that we must consider. It's also important to be realistic in the search for the right place. I've lived in places that were always too hot and always too cold, but I think the worst is living in a place that is wrong in all the other aspects. Not to say weather doesn't play a role in comfort, but just because something has a perfect facade doesn't mean it's the right place for you, right? It's a matter of understanding what compromises you are willing to make. I'd rather deal with shoveling three feet of snow everyday for nine months out of the year or sweat while I blow dry my hair every morning than to wake up in the most beautiful place in the world knowing that I'm not home.

The story of Goldilocks is about a curious girl that finds herself in the wrong place and instead of trying to understand how she got there or (more importantly) how she can create a place of her own, she creates a disaster in a place that doesn't belong to her and runs away screaming evading a certain "breaking and entering" charge.  I may be blonde and I'm sure this process will include putting up with a lot more than a bowl or two of subpar porridge, but I promise I won't fall into the same mess as Goldilocks.