My real self lives at home and I send a representative to work.
My real self wanders around the front yard in dirty green puddle boots, eccentrically pulling out weeds by hand and day dreaming about its future as a grass-free zone, inviting in local pollinators and animals.
My representative shoves her feet into uncomfortable heeled shoes, business casual attire and gives off a I-have-it-together vibe.
She’s organized, thoughtful, careful about each and every interaction, motivated and kind. She is quite impressive when I see her. That’s why she’s my representative, she’s great with people.
My real self appears at the front door after my commute home, she’s exhausted from every interaction, the bright lights, the dumb shoes, the carefully crafted persona.
She sits in the bath in the dark where no one is popping in “just say hello”… for the most part. She has room in her heart for two beautiful babies, a perfect boy and a girl (in that order), curious about what’s behind the shower curtain. In that bath she reappears. Calmer and centered. And, I like her.
She’s sort of naturally gloomy on the inside, but that doesn’t stop her from experiencing the beauty that she’s collected and curated over the years.
She’s not sure her work and authentic self will ever truly mix together harmoniously as one, but for now, that’s ok. Maybe they just weren’t meant to be.