Here\u2019s what I\u2019m supposed to be.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I shouldn\u2019t have a line or a blemish on my face: a perfect FaceTune in real life. A full set of long, curled lashes. The perfect pout and long, shiny hair that never frizzes. My measurements should 36-24-36; not a bit of cellulite.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\u2019m supposed to be a runner, a weightlifter, a downhill champion skier, the girl who gets up a 5 a.m. to go to boot camp. I should eat kale, and quinoa, grilled fish and chicken.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Cultured. I would enjoy visits to a museum or an art gallery. Maybe learn a new language. I could take up the guitar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I should be volunteering at the food bank or taking pro bono cases for those who can\u2019t afford it. Maybe work at the community garden. I would never forget the reusable bags for the grocery store. And definitely bike to work three times a week.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I should work 60 hours a week, and if I have downtime, I should be studying articles about the law, my industry, management. I should create new projects and initiatives. I should work weekends. My job should be my passion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
If I were perfect, my husband and I would always hold hands, make love spontaneously and often. I wouldn\u2019t ever go makeup free in yoga pants and sit on the couch. If I were perfect, I would have great friends, and a best friend. We would have these elaborate parties and get togethers and have great talks over coffee.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Here\u2019s who I am.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I have cellulite on my thighs. I have lines on my face. My hair frizzes when the humidity hits 40%. But my husband says I\u2019m gorgeous, sometimes in the morning when I\u2019ve just woken up and I have not a stitch on, nor any makeup on my face. I have my dad\u2019s long straight lashes, and my mom\u2019s freckles. My grandmother\u2019s dark brown eyes, almost black. Those lines on my face: some are frown lines, but perhaps far more are laugh lines.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I hate running. Lifting weights bores me. But I work out nearly every day. Sometimes, I get up at 5:45 am to go to a gym class that challenges me. (It usually involves weights.) If I don\u2019t get up early, I go to the gym after work. I am one hell of a downhill skier. I am a pretty decent mountain biker. Each day at work when my Fitbit reminds me to get up, I walk the floor. Sometimes, I take the stairs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I am flawed. I drink too much. I don\u2019t want to learn French. I just want to sit on the couch and watch old episodes of Felicity. I tried the guitar once. But I meal prep on the weekends. I have a budget. I have a weekend checklist of productivity. My idea of a fabulous Sunday afternoon involves mimosas, and my husband, and some of our friends, and laughter, and my favorite wedges, and a hip new restaurant, or the one across the highway from our house where everyone knows us and we sit at the bar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Every once in a while, I do take a pro bono case. Every couple of years, I take a family law case and help women free themselves from a marriage that stopped working long ago. Every once in a while, I volunteer to help green card holders apply for citizenship.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I don\u2019t work 60 hours a week. When I have downtime at work, I pick up my phone and scroll through social media, or read an article in the Washington Post. I wasn\u2019t in the top 10% of my class in law school. Sometimes, though, I read the bar journal magazine. Almost always, I do good work. Always, I am a good employee, a good colleague, a good manager.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My husband and I can go a whole day without touching except a quick peck on the lips to say hello or goodbye. But that\u2019s not every day. We love each other with passion. We have fun together. We talk, we laugh, we plan, we dream. We are a true team, a partnership. We take care of each other. Perhaps most importantly, we are friends.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I invited a bunch of people to my fortieth birthday party in Vegas. Three people came. And sometimes people who I thought were my friends\u2026aren\u2019t. But my mom is my dear friend, and she is a wonderful person who is slow to judge and quick to compliment. I could not love that woman more. And I am still friends with a girl who lived across the street when we were just babies. Another one, from first grade \u2013 has a baby and lives in New Orleans and doesn\u2019t drink anymore \u2013 but when we\u2019re in the same room it\u2019s like no time has passed at all, and we let each other be\u2026each other. I found some wonderful ladies in a car group. I found an unexpected friend at a workout class. I have lovely friends who stood up at my wedding and who I\u2019m confident will be by my side forever. And with all of these friends: we get together, and we laugh. Over booze, or coffee.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sometimes, I eat the freaking cupcake.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sometimes, I give myself a break.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Here\u2019s what I\u2019m supposed to be. I shouldn\u2019t have a line or a blemish on my face: a perfect FaceTune in real life. A full set of long, curled lashes. The perfect pout and long, shiny hair that never frizzes. My measurements should 36-24-36; not a bit of cellulite. I\u2019m supposed to be a runner, … <\/p>\n