Girl Next Door

I'm a big magazine reader. Against my better judgment, I like to read poorly written articles with complete untruths about relationships and discover 125 ways to tie a scarf. I think my favorite-- because it is totally predictable-- is the interview with the celebrity. It usually begins a little something like this:

Jennifer Lopez walks into a quaint coffee shop in New York City for our interview. Wearing a t-shirt and jeans, you would never be able to tell this girl is an actress, singer, dancer, philanthropist and entrepreneur. You would think she would order the most expensive espresso on the menu, but instead she pipes up with, "I'll just take plain coffee, no cream or sugar." When we discuss her children she insists she's just your everyday mom. In her defense, the Louis Vuitton diaper bag was on sale for $800...

It's this ploy for us to sympathize. To think that these women are down to earth, your girl next door. We often adjust our thinking likewise and wonder why if having a million dollars, a live-in nanny and a housekeeper is normal, why don't we quite match up?

This doesn't just apply to celebrities. Blogs, Pinterest and other mediums also feed into this misconception that is the "Girl Next Door."

Truth: Contrary to popular belief, 80% of women are not going home every night and making wreaths out of yarn. Your girl next door is doing good to get Hamburger Helper out of the box, not trying out the newest Pioneer Woman recipe. And there was only that one girl in that one place that one time who made her diningroom table out of an old barn door. Honestly, more often than not, people have unfinished bathrooms, projects they were going to complete 8 years ago and a husband with a to-do list a mile long.

I had a battle with this earlier this week. I went to use my store credit at a wedding registry store in Searcy. I was bombarded with questions: "Do you want the corresponding vegetable platter? Large pasta bowl? Serving plate for $60?" I tried to stir up enthusiasm, any emotion really, but none came. The lady, who stood about 4'11" at the most, climbed to the top shelf to show me a sample piece. She was so psyched about this platter. And all I could think was, "It's like a really, really big dinner plate."

And then the question every new bride likes to hear: "Do you entertain often?"

Suddenly images of solo cups, paper plates and Domino's boxes popped up in my mind. "Yes, yes, we do," I offered. Perhaps then, she says, I should consider these pieces.

"Is there pretty easy clean-up? Say if cheese and pepperoni were to lodge permanently into the crevices overnight?"

Needless to say, I walked out without the platters, with a look of female defeat on my face. I just couldn't do it. I couldn't pretend to be someone I'm not and pay enormous amounts for an oversized plate.

And mothers out there, don't get discouraged by what you read on the Internet. You may not be able to tell from the perfect pictures, family crafts and homemade toddler outfits, but their kids poop too. And throw up. And scream. And the parents probably at times lose their cool. But that doesn't make for great literature.

All of these things, in reasonable amounts, are fine. It's when we think they are the rule and not the exception that we find ourselves hanging out in a long-lasting pity party. I can't stand crafts. I'd rather watch a Law and Order: SVU marathon than burn my fingers to nubs with a hot glue gun. Does a picture of me with popcorn dribbling out of my mouth while I watch the 17th episode in a row make for a cute blog? No. But it's me. I dislike cooking. It's a whole bunch of effort that is gobbled up within seconds with nothing left but a burp to remember it by. Does this make me less of a woman?

Here's a little experiment: If you are ever feeling down or not good enough, go next door. Literally. Knock on the door. I dare you. If the woman is spray painting a door mat white to make it a wall decoration, you have every right to cry and feel pathetic. But, chances are, she's doing something quite ordinary.

I'm preaching to myself here when I say, don't compare yourself to others. Don't make your husband feel bad because he didn't find a barn door laying on the side of the road. Don't be ashamed to have guests over because you order pizza and use plastic forks. People don't remember how cool your platters were or if you handmade the rug on the floor out of newspaper scraps. They have your hospitality etched in their minds; your love; your kindness and warmth. So get off the computer every now and then. Shut your magazine. And love your life.

Proverbs 14:30

A tranquil heart gives life to the flesh, but envy makes the bones rot.