When my super cool daughter Em, was in sixth or seventh grade she was in the newspaper for doing this logrolling day with Timber Tina at the Great Maine Lumberjack Show.
This place is where she studied logrolling all summer and is where she battled seven boys, trying to knock them off logs by fancy footwork and all that. Timber Tina (she was on Survivor for one show and then went back for a reunion show, too and is amaze-balls)is a professional world-class lumber jill. The log rolling day was in honor of her son Charlie, this absolutely amazing guy who died that same summer. He was really young, still in his teens.
The picture was hilarious because of the boys in the background staring after she’s knocked off one of their own.
That night the issue came out, Em plopped on her bed, nuzzled under the covers and said, “I can’t believe I’m in the paper.”
I smiled. “It’s great. You should be proud.”
She hugged her stuffed kitty (appropriately named Kitty Kitty) to her chest. “I bet I’m the only cheerleading logroller.”
“At least in Ellsworth, Maine,” I added. “And don’t forget you’re also a stunt girl.”
She as named Stunt Girl at a Stunt Camp in California. It’s this big stunt camp honor. The stunt camp was all about jumping off buildings and stuff. All of this mattered because when people looked at Em, they didn’t think Brave Girl or Logrolling Girl or Stunt Girl. They tended to think Smart Girl, Brilliant Girl, Very Polite Girl, Artistic Girl, Pretty Girl.
“Aren’t you going to tell me I defy stereotypes?” she asked that night, holding out her arms for a hug.
I hugged her back. “You already know.”
Why This Matters And Isn’t Just A Braggy Mom Post
And as I remember all this, thanks to some pretty good written records, I’m sort of struck by how brave Em has always been to defy the expectations of what people think small, brainy, artistic girls are going to be doing. She was a cheerleader and a log roller. She jumped off buildings. She got into Harvard and Dartmouth all on her own. No mommys and daddys buying buildings here folks. She was a field artillery officer in the Army. She studied Krav Maga in Israel, volunteered in Costa Rica, studied film for a tiny bit in high school in New York all by herself. All these random things. How cool is that?
It’s pretty damn cool.
Somehow Em usually never lets other people’s expectations define her.
I wish that we could all be that brave, that we could have the opportunity and empowerment to be that brave, that we could all become who we want to become, define ourselves instead of others or society defining us. How shiny the world would be then, wouldn’t it?
A LOT OF IT COMES FROM YOUR FAMILY
In my family, my sister was the good one. Another sibling was the handsome, successful one. I was the quirky smart one. Another sibling was the angry one.
Those labels are who we were expected to be.
But the thing is that my sister? She’s smart. She’s successful.
That angry sibling? He did some amazing things before he died. Things that make him stunningly successful in my eyes.
And I’m quirky, but I’m pretty sure I’m not the smartest of us.
But those are the expectations, the roles, the labels and those scripts our family’s right for us (both good and bad) can really stick.
How Do You Defy Expectations
Think of who you want to be.
Think of what you want to try.
Think of why you haven’t yet.
If it isn’t about money and resources and you can, give whatever it is a try. Do the thing that people don’t expect you to do (Try not to go to jail though. Legal things are usually a better choice.) and see how it feels. See how you feel.
Do people expect you to be quiet? To be loud? Do they expect you to be an activist? A peace-maker? Think of how you can be the opposite of expectations if you feel like those expectations are holding you back. The first step is to imagine being what it is that YOU want to be, not what your teachers, family, friends, coworkers, employees, bosses want you to be. YOU.
Is there something you always wanted to do, to be, and people scoffed. Show them how wrong they are. Blow their minds. Blow your own mind, too.
BRAVE THING I’M DOING
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