I am a curious mixture. Silly and serious. World-weary and naive. Poetic and nonsensical. I've written a book with a radioactive toil...
I am a curious mixture. Silly and serious. World-weary and naive. Poetic and nonsensical. I've written a book with a radioactive toilet plunger in it, and another where the main character struggles with the very nature of her existence in heart-breaking ways. I love randomness and inanity. I have a well deep in my soul that craves poetry the way lungs crave air.
There are times when I'm at a complete loss as to how to describe myself. I'll participate in conversations and say, yes. That is me all over. Then a slight shift in topic and suddenly, No, THAT is more me. Definitely yes, this time. I AM THAT. And I feel like I'm contradicting myself but really, it's just that I am so many things. I am a mosaic of a person. So many pieces of so many wholes.
I'm a die hard romantic but I hate love stories where the love is just a pale shadow of what I know love can be. I love edge-of-my-seat action movies but part of me shrivels up and DIES whenever someone is shot in the head. I'm a sci-fi lover but I cannot abide tentacles. I love marinara sauce but eating raw tomatoes makes me gag.
And that's the thing about people. We don't make sense, and I'm not sure we were ever supposed to. I don't fall squarely into any one category. Despite three decades of trying, I CANNOT make sense of myself. I'm learning how to be okay with that. I'm even smashing some of the mental boxes I used to try to sort myself and others into. We don't fit. And I'm not saying that in an, I'm-SO-enlightened kind of way. I'm saying it in an I'm-so-confused kind of way. Because I can't make sense of you anymore than I can make sense of me. We're too big and crazy and swirly and AMAZING. We're these fabulous mish-mash conglomerations of so many different kinds of awesome.
Today, I feel like embracing my confusion and shouting at the world, "You are fanTAStic! You defy definition! You are so much MORE!" I want my daughters to hear me say it. I want them to see me live it. Because maybe, if they hear it often enough, they'll believe it deeper, harder, and more thoroughly than I've ever managed to.
VanderVision Tip of the Day: Awesomeness cannot be categorized.
About author: Kimberly VanderHorst
Kimberly Vanderhorst wrote her first book when she was seven (it was totally awesome, but the world isn't ready for it yet), and her next when she was twenty-seven. When asked to account for the intervening decades, she likes to suggest the possibility of alien abduction with as straight a face as possible.