I grew up as a nerd. I don't mean the "I like trendy sci-fi movies and don't care about anything" kind of nerd. I mean a fat, awkward, desperately wanted-to-be-liked kind of nerd. The kind who was constantly reminded of her place in social hierarchy nerd. I spent a lot of time clinging to that identity and strategizing how to get away from it. I was obsessed with being "cool."
And now that I am 32, a mother, a wife, a successful editor — you might think I'd have the confidence to do whatever the eff I wanted. But I'm still struggling with the concept of being cool enough.
I know, it sounds silly, but it's something I'd wager you still think about too.
It hits me the most in the morning when I am getting dressed. I have a pretty good sense of style — edgy but not too over-the-top — and tend to buy a lot of on-trend items. Without fail when it comes time to wear my pork-pie hat or a sexy dress in the real world, I have this overwhelming urge to take it all off.
"I'm not cool enough to wear this," I'll inevitably think. I usually can push that anxiety down deep enough to wear it anyway, but it sits there, nagging me.
And truthfully, it'll sneak up on me again, several times throughout the day.
The fear of not being cool enough held me back from so much growing up.
I'd avoid certain clothes because I was "too fat" for them. I'd avoid going places because I felt like I wasn't cool enough to be there. I'd even avoid certain people because what right did I have to speak to someone that cool?
It's not something we left behind in high school.
You hear it all the time.
"I'm definitely not cool enough to hang out at that bar."
"I'm a mother now. I can't pull that off."
It may not be the envy of the captain of the high school cheerleading team that consumes us, but it's there.
What I was really saying then, and what I am really saying now when I think that way, is I don't think I am worthy enough.
I always loved tattoos and really saw myself as a badass old lady with an artful arm full of them. But when i got my first tattoo, I got it on my foot — somewhere I could hide is so no one knew I was trying to "act" cooler than I was. I always loved rainbow hair but wouldn't dare bring attention to it by veering from the standard blonde or red or brown options. I wouldn't wear anything that was too revealing or too out there — after all, who did I think I was?
Hell, who do I think I am?
When we say things like "There is no way I could pull this off" or "I'm definitely not cool enough to be in this bar" we're hiding behind our own insecurities.
Because this notion of status and social currency is entirely made up.
After years of working on the whole self-worth thing, an old high school friend sent me a message.
We were always friendly, but our friendship was pretty confined to the walls of our school. He was a really good-looking guy, funny, had lots of friends — so naturally I never really considered he'd might want to hang out with me, on purpose, outside of school.
Fast forward 10 years (ugh), he reached out to me out of the blue after reading one of my articles. I thanked him for the kind words and threw in there that I always really liked him and was sad we never hung out. His reply was along the lines of "I always thought you were too cool to hang out with me."
UH, WHAT?
Was this dude for real? Did he go to the same school? His simple response sent me spiraling.
How many other opportunities had I missed because of this concept of not being cool enough?
But the truth is only one thing can be deduced from that conversation: Being cool isn't real.
What's cooler than being cool? Being your damn self.
I don't have to lose 50 pounds to wear a dress I love. I don't have to be dark and mysterious to get a tattoo. And I certainly don't need a litany of shallow friends to dye my hair any damn color I choose.
I'm not a nerd. I'm not cool. I'm just me, and that's much easier to contend with.
Life is to short for shoulda-coulda-woulda-s. No matter where we are in life, we have a right to be there and do so in the way we want to be.
