One of the other things about beards that I failed to mention in my first post, Hello world!, is that a beard can also serve as a disguise. For example, when a married Republican politician has anonymous gay sex in airport bathrooms, his wife could be called his “beard” — his cover up for being a pole-smoker on the down low.
I bring this up because I am fascinated by the way so many women I know use a “beard” in public in order to appear superior to other mothers. I have done it myself, so I know it when I see it. We do it out of deep rooted insecurities about not being good enough. In this age of information when we are constantly bombarded with “perfection” in the form of three page Christmas newsletters, Martha Stewart magazines, and Oprah’s favorite things, it is not uncommon for a woman to think, “Am I supposed to be doing more?” More volunteering, more home cooking, more academic coaching, more handcrafted centerpieces, more exercising, more, more, more. Well give it up, ladies. Stop beating yourselves up. Enough with the guilt already. I’m here to tell you that when it comes to homemaking, less is more. (Note: this does not apply to dark chocolate or penis size.)
There was a woman at our bus stop last year who was the epitome of The Über-Mom. She was constantly “holding court” at the bus stop to showcase all of her children’s accomplishments and her daily successes in the kitchen, the garden, and even the bedroom. This woman really got into my head. I would find myself comparing everything in my life to the image she was presenting of herself at the bus stop. When my kid only read 20 Advanced Reading books in first grade, I felt ashamed, knowing that this woman’s daughter read 100. When my pie crust was store bought, I felt guilty that I was poisoning my family with trans fats, knowing full well that this woman made all of her pastries from scratch. I felt like I was never volunteering enough at school, or signing my kids up for the right activities, or capturing enough precious memories in archival quality handmade three dimensional scratch and sniff scrapbook pages. Gag me with an acorn shaped hole punch.
Thankfully, what I discovered after I had my last baby and she brought me the worst chicken pot pie I’ve ever eaten, in a gorgeous handmade casserole dish that I then had to wash and return, is that this woman is full of shit. She is just a whiz at PR. Women who try to feel better about themselves by making others feel inferior are ubiquitous. They learn it from their mothers, and their mothers before them. The key to dealing with these women is to be able to recognize a Bearded Über-Mom when you see one and then ignore her. It has taken me a long time to learn this, but if you can just have the courage to be yourself, you will find other authentic people and be happy being real. Imperfectly real. Oooh, just like the Velveteen Rabbit! Real is not perfect, but real is loved.
By the way, this woman is not at my bus stop this year and waiting for the bus has never been more pleasant. As luck would have it, her daughter was “accepted into private school.” (A.K.A. they wrote a big fat tuition check.) When I asked this woman why she made the switch, she spun a colorful yarn about wanting to provide a Christian-based learning environment that challenged and nurtured her gifted child. In other words, her daughter got caught giving blow jobs in the back of the public school bus.
Obviously, I can’t change other people, only myself. So for me, the real lesson here is to try to believe in myself a little more and stop comparing myself to others. It is also helpful to recognize when someone else is wearing a beard and avoid those people like the scrapbooking aisles at the craft store.
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