Insert Generic Life Here

Generic house, generic life, generic car, generic strife.
Generic bills, generic fun, generic ills, generic trophies won.
Look back on your story and cry, once you lived, but now you die.
Look back and see, what did you give, what did you gain? Nothing. Nothing. It was all in vain.
You had the chance to be a splash of color in a world of gray, the ability to chase shadows away.
You stayed in the corner and hid from the light, and now your world is endless night. 
You chose to follow but you could've led, you chose the generic and now your dreams are dead.
Now you're stuck in the purgatory of what others said was cool, you believed them and you're a fool. 


Shut your ears, drown out the voices, it's up to you to make your own choices.
Don't let the world tell you how you should fit in, you'll always lose, they'll always win.
Be yourself and no one else, love each other but Honey, love yourself. 
Be your own super hero, champion and queen, conquer all and be nothing in between.
Live your life in such a way, that there will never be a generic day.
May your path be exciting and new, fabulous and sparkly and definitely YOU.
                                                                                                            --Stephanie Starr


This past summer, I made one of many yearly road trips to North Texas, where my family lives. On the way back home, I passed an apartment complex. I have driven by it probably a hundred times before, so I have no idea why that image is still stuck in my head to this day. Maybe I was a bit blue to be leaving my family. No clue what brought on such a surge of deep emotion over some plywood and sheet rock. But seriously, dear friends, that building depressed me. It was so unbelievably generic. Fairly new, but obviously hastily put together, Putrid shades of brown and yellow, even the paint seemed depressed. The cars belonging to tenants were even generic and pretty much the same color.

Why of all times did this poor building stand out? Obviously, it had blended in so well that in the three years I have been taking that road, I just had seen it for the first time. Whatever the reason it caught my eye, it has stayed in my mind and I have thought of it often. That poor, ugly building had potential, but it was never going to be more than what it was at that moment.

Such is life for so many; even I have been guilty of being "generic." Generic. It's like almost being an original, but not quite. We are a copy of others. We reflect qualities of others that we admire, but don't let our own potential and personality shine through. That is not to say that we shouldn't have role models to look up to. Even our role models emulate their role models and so on it goes. The people we look up to have their own fears and insecurities, but we admire the perception of their strength, beauty, or whatever. And that is ok. It is when we strive to be a complete facsimile of that person, that we lose every bit of originality. It is the moment we become generic.

There are so many beautiful people in the world who hide behind the generic Maybe someone has belittled their originality in the past or made them feel less than perfect. Maybe it was a look or a comment. Whatever the reasoning, so many people refuse to let the true version of themselves shine. It can be hard. It can be terrifying. But think of what you have to offer to the world! Think of your original self and the joy you bring! For many many years, I was comfortable to hide in the ordinary. I actually worked quite hard to hide me. I was a tomboy. I thought I looked silly in dresses and sparkly things. I didn't think my opinions mattered. I was miserable. Being invisible is actually not fun at all.

I'm a fake it til ya make it kinda dame. I am not always brave, strong, funny, happy, and Dolls, my eyeliner is NOT always on point. But I try very hard to be an original everyday. Someone, somewhere is watching me, taking notes on how to bring out their own originality. I love that my daughters look up to me and tell me I'm their hero, but I am so happy they are their own women. My life is a simply a suggestion to others. Don't be me. Be your own hero. Be you. You can be the contour and simply blend in or you can be the red nail polish on the white carpet. No matter what, they can't erase you or the mark you leave on the world. Be original.

Until we meet again,
Sweet Steph Starr





Image Courtesy of Google Image Search

Act Like a Lady?

   
Next year, I will turn 40, and to this day, I still hear my mother's voice at certain times. "Stephanie, act like a lady." She probably said it a thousand times or more.Just when I was having the time of my single digit years, she'd give me THAT look and utter that horrendous phrase. Talk about a bummer. I grew up with a younger brother, smack dab in the middle of male cousins, and a tomboy best friend. Being lady-like was a bit of an issue for me. At least the lady-like my kid brain pictured. In my little busy head, being lady-like meant sitting in a perfect pose, quietly listening to polite conversation, and keeping the wrinkles out of a frilly pinafore. (One can assume that I did, and still do, have quite the dramatic imagination.) Basically I assumed she meant for me to be bored and miserable out of my wits, because that's what moms do, right? 

Going with the dramatic and overactive personality I have, I used the mental pictures of Southern Belles, waif-like creatures, uber submissive wretches, and damsels in distress to concoct images of what a lady was. For someone who always had scraped knees and dirty elbows, this was a scene right out of a horror movie. Being the stubborn person I am, I could not be convinced that this was absolutely NOT what my mother meant. In fact, up until the last few years, I had actually maintained that belief.  I was a soldier and an EMT, for crying out loud. Two very tough and "manly" jobs. For me there was one way or the other. No in between. You're either a tomboy or a girlie girl. If I were ever to be called a lady, I'd often turn around to peer behind me in a very Three Stooges fashion. Surely you weren't referring to me?

Now before all my girlie girls get their bloomers in a bunch, let me get to the point. Being lady-like is a state of mind. While I am addressing women at the moment, this goes for men too. Being a gentleman is also a state of mind. It's not about the way a woman dresses. Honey, you rock those mechanic coveralls, sweat pants, or designer jeans!!!! Being a lady is how we respond, how we act, how we handle ourselves. This doesn't make me old fashioned, or even if it does, it makes me a contributing member of society. There is a very famous saying that goes, "Well behaved women rarely make history." I believe that one thousand percent. However, when I think of those women, I see women who broke the societal norms with dignity and class. 

Now more than ever, we need ladies AND gentleman. People who are not afraid to stand up for what the believe in, but do it in a manner of class and grace. If we have learned anything this past week, it is that there are hateful, angry people in this world. Yet, there are ladies and gentlemen ready to stand and change the world. See, young Stephanies of the world, you can be a strong, independent woman AND be a lady. A lady responds with kindness and love in a sea full of vitriol and hate, while maintaining an air of strength. That's what Mom was trying so hard to impart to me all those years ago. Being a lady wasn't about some archaic traditions; it was about my attitude and response to life in general. I am angry and sad about the world around me, but how I choose to respond to that makes the difference. So yeah, act like a lady.

With much love,
Sweet Steph


Photo courtesy of Google Image Search