packages, tied up with string.

i've spent a large part of my life trying to (cliche here) "find myself". i've tried country, rock and roll, jazz....literally and metaphorically. i've tried city and country, and urban farming. i've tried vegetarian, vegan and protein only. i've tried wild and free and reserved housewife (not as good at that last one). what i'm starting to figure out is that i'm all of those things. it's not an easy way to be. it confuses people. me, mostly. but i'm starting to settle in to this disconnection or lack of loyalty to one way. i know i'm a mother for sure. i know i'm a cook and a nurturer, also, certainly. i know i like wine and coffee and bread. always. i like orange, and retro furniture. i like gardens and clean floors. spring smells and first sunshine always make me want to be rebellious and unencumbered, if only for a little while. the smell of fall makes me want to bake pie and simmer stew.
i've realized insecurities make me act irresponsibly. make me act like someone who is not all of the above. we, as women, as people, should probably knock that crap off and just learn to love ourselves. i've learned i think i can do everything myself. and while i can't, i sure can do a lot myself. but not everything. well, i'm running out of things to say. driving today, i had a lot to write, but a lot of daily life and jumbles of stuff happened between then and now. jumble happens.