Funkified

I'm in such a funk. We dropped off Tdawg at college and I met Shellie. She is the mom of one of Tdawg's roommates. She is really nice...but for some reason it just seemed that she is everything that I am not.  She is easy breezy, vivacious, funny, beautiful, athletic, successful.  She painted the guys a picture for their room.  My jaw dropped.  Really?  Oh yeah, she is an art major from Auburn and has her own graphic design firm.  So she just whipped this up the night before.

And I felt like a chubby sweaty dork.  Amazing how all of our insecurities can flood back in a blink of an eye. So, after that, I didn't feel like painting anymore. There are so many that can paint better than I can...I just felt why bother.  Thousands of people knit (better than I can), so why bother...

 

...The analyst in me knows that I'm having identity issues.  Who am I?  I'll always be a Mom...but the kids are grown up.  No career.  And it doesn't seem like I do anything special or especially well.  Being the best Me that I can be, just doesn't seem to be enough.