Hey! Look What I Can Do!


I bought this dress. It’s a sort of cheesy black sweater dress with a handkerchief hem. I wore it with leggings and walked around feeling like goddamn batman all day.

I kind of liked the feeling.

I haven’t worn the dress again because what kind of goddamn freaky ass middle age grandma walks around feeling like batman?

I cannot possibly admit that I’m that fucking weird. Nope. Can’t do it.

I am still wholly convinced that while I am sort of weird, I am well within the boundaries of being able to move freely about with the humans more entrenched in the “normal” category. I can’t walk around all happy because my cheap ass dress flutters a bit and makes me feel like the dark knight. That’s fucking weird. Especially, since I’m not even a comic book geek. All I know of batman is Adam West and the movies. I didn’t even see all of the movies.

I spent this last weekend floating in a pod of water, sitting outside with a fire, and hanging out with Randy. Pretty much our preferred method of passing time. Well, other than the pod of water part. Pod water usually isn’t on my agenda.

Anyway, the Β most incredible thought occurred to me over the weekend. I thought about that dress and how I like the way it flaps. I can be who I am.

I can absolutely 100% be who I am.

I mean, I’m not talking about going crazy here and unleashing my inner self on the world. Or, not actually saying inappropriate things instead of just thinking them. All the time. Pretty much every time I hear someone talk at work. Not weird inappropriate things. Don’t be pervy. I mean, sarcastic comments that would be hilarious, but probably not appreciated.

I’m talking about being cool with liking my new dress and being cool with liking the way it flutters. It doesn’t matter if other people think I’m odd. I guess it would matter if I veered into the “unemployable” side of odd, but that’s not the case. I’ve always been employed. Fucking always.

I’m dreaming about retirement. Hoping currency in just a few short decades is dust bunnies. We’ll live like kings. If it continues to be our current dollar bills, then I’m probably never retiring.

I’ve made some real strides in caring less what other people think of me. But really, I’m starting to realize all I’ve done is knock away the crusty shell of my obsessive worry over how other people see me. I still care. I just don’t care as much. Almost nearly as much. These things take time. Shut up.

Anyway, I had this thought and I suddenly felt like a kid who was about to make the most amazing jumpΒ ever into a pool. You know that jump. The one where a kid basically just jumps into a pool, but does it while yelling “Hey! Look what I can do!”

Hey! Look what I can do!

I can be exactly who I am.

I’ll let you know when I actually believe that.

How about you?



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  • It is your responsibility to be who you are! You owe that to yourself, but also to all of mankind. The world needs every Batman that we can get!
    I hope I will find my Batman outfit one day (do they come in plus size?).

  • I don’t care as much about how I dress, but I care about what people think of my work. I care so much that it makes my stomach boil with hatred for myself when my work is rejected. Writer’s curse I guess. I wish I had a batman dress to wear when I got bad news like that. It would empower me. Wear it proud!

  • That outfit should have come with a metal grocery cart. You know, for random items you find in dumpsters, and maybe some cats. πŸ™‚

  • It’s interesting to see the difference in my teen’s comfort with himself vs. mine. He’s so conscientious about his appearance and what he says and does. Me? Not so much anymore. I didn’t realize what a nice place this could be in life until I saw my kid going through the same BS I did in my youth.

  • Oh, Yes. The lessons learned in a dress πŸ™‚

    So, I learned that no matter how pretty My Funeral dress makes me, I still have to hitch it up going upstairs. Stepping on the front of your flouncy gown has the same effect as sinking your spike heel in the grass: Face first or a yogic attempt at maintaining the upright position.

    Ta-Da!! (…or, Fuuucck…*waves at person watching* “I’m OK…just checking my weight distribution! Thanks…!” )

    But… sarcasm is my happy…and probably just because a normal conveyance of that particular truth would start somebody crying. Hopefully not me. But…usually me. God love the protective armor of sarcasm.

    I think if the dress flutters and makes you feel like Batman AND you like it…do the Marilyn Monroe πŸ™‚

    Now for the cape…

    Think we can pull off a cape? (I have a nice shawl for practicing in the mirror πŸ™‚ )

  • “Be yourself. Everyone else is already taken.” I have that Oscar Wilde quote pinned to the wall of my office just behind my monitor where I see it, although I often forget it’s there. Sometimes it takes me by surprise. Hey, I forgot about that!
    I’m not sure where I’m going with this because I don’t think you need a reminder to be yourself, only reassurance that it’s okay, and other people seem to be providing that in spades.
    But sometimes I just like to add my voice to the chorus. Even those who march to the beat of a different drummer still sometimes walk alongside the crowd.

  • HA! Just this morning I shared a quote on Facebook – “You can’t let people scare you. You can’t go your whole life trying to please everyone else. You can’t go through life worried about what everyone else is going to think. Whether it’s your hair, clothes, what you have to say, how you feel, what you believe and what you have. You can’t let the judgment of others stop you from being you. Because if you do, you’re no longer you. You’re someone everyone else wants you to be.”

    Hard for some of us to believe that since we were brainwashed from little on that who we are was bad and unlovable… But I think that I’m getting there – sounds like you are, too! And that dress sounds kick ass!!!

  • I’m working on it too. It’s painstakingly slow. But getting better. And I think that dress sounds like something Stevie Nicks would wear, which means it’s totally cool. Not that you care, of course. πŸ™‚

  • Say yes to the dress and I hope you where it with the striped leggings just like in the picture at the top of the post. A kind of Wicked Witch of the west crossed with Batman. Rock it!

    Also? I am totally down with the dust bunny currency. I’M RICH!!!

  • I recently bought a roundy round. Very tutu like (black) and I love it! When I wear it I cannot stop twirling. I am almost 52. I wear it with a comfortable shirt and comfortable Crocs and rainbow socks. Yes I dare to go out in public. Life is too short to not be who we are, and there are probably a whole lot of others that might take courage from our brazenness. πŸ™‚ Love this post.

  • I’ve had those moments of which you speak (or rather, write). Unfortunately, they are just that: moments. It’s kind of a mini-liberation from yourself, really. I mean, who’s ever actually stopped you from wearing a batman dress, or anything else, huh? Only you. I’ve noticed I allow myself more of those moments with every passing year. Not sure if I’m finally treating myself as well as I treat (some) others, or I’m just so dang tired and fed-up that those moments are more “I DON’T FUCKIN CARE WHAT ANYONE THINKS ‘BOUT ME!” than “I’M GREAT JUST BEING ME: TA-DAHH!” And if you’re not going to wear the dress, send it to me. I’m sure it deserves one of us. (BTW, I watch Gotham, and Batman was a real dope in his early years. “Catgirl” is way cooler, streetwise and mature. Her wardrobe rocks; his is total nerd. No wonder he later decides to obscure his face.)

    • This is exactly right…these thoughts come and go in moments…I’m trying to stretch those moments out..

      I think I’ll wear the dress tomorrow. I’m feeling like a superhero (not really…but still)

  • I sometimes have long arguments with my sister where she goes ‘you don’t seem to care about anything!’ and so then I go ‘so, are you trying to convince me to care about how I don’t care because that sort of defeats the purpose’.
    I do care about batman, have a t-shirt of my own. So, cheers to the batman-memorabilia-owning people who just don’t care πŸ™‚

  • I love this post – I love the cursing, I love the flapping dress, and I think I’d love you! Just this week I decided “why should my kids have all the fun of dance class?” and I signed up for ballet for myself. I’ve never danced, but I love music and just dancing around (when no one’s watching). It’s taken me many years to realize that I can be brave and do what I want regardless of what people think. It was the same when I decided to start a blog! Although with a blog there is a smidge of concern about what people think – I do want to be read, after all! And then the clothes – wear what you want, when you want to (as long as it’s appropriate, of course!) and who cares what people think! I’m still branching out to embrace that as well, but it is freeing when you realize you can just be you!
    Thanks for this post – I loved it! (Did I say that already?)

    • Oh THANK YOU! I love you too!

      I feel uncomfortable when talking to people about my blog. I don’t mind if millions of strangers read it (haha, I wish) but if someone in real life talks to me about a post (other than immediate family and a few close friends) then I just want them to stop talking. I always think “I wonder if I just SMASH MY FACE INTO THE WALL if that will make them stop talking about my blog?”

  • normal is the flavor of the moment, and it changes every time you turn your head. wear the dress, walk about and hope everyone else finds you as entertaining , as you find them. no one is really going to know what each, thinks of the other . so really , why give a shit… hey, I got an Idea. wear it for Christmas this year , and I know someone who will actually tell you what they think about the dress. hell , he even thinks he’s normal,,,but then everyone will tell you ,” he lives in his own little world”

    • HAHAHA…no. I will not be wearing a dress to Christmas because that would be weird.

      That whole “not really knowing what people really think” is a great comfort to me. Like when I worry that people at work will read my blog and think I’m totally fucked…then I realize…you know, they probably won’t TELL me what they think..so what do I care?”

  • If you were to, say, stop being you… I would be pissed. Or disappointed. Or sad. Or probably all of those things. No pressure. The striped leggings (are those things leggings?) are colorful, and colorful is good.
    I’ll start caring more about what other people are thinking after I see some evidence that they actually ARE thinking. Maybe.

    • Well..I have no choice but to be me..so I think we’re safe there.

      Those are tights..that picture was actually taken a few years ago. It was my Halloween costume. I was a witch. But the tights weren’t visible unless I hiked my skirt up, so no one could see my costume. I liked it that way.

  • I felt so good when I cut down on the amount I worried about what other people thought of me / what I was wearing / what I looked like. I can’t wait to lose some more weight so I can fit into some of the dresses I have – none look like Batman’s cape but they are comfy nonetheless !!! LOL
    Have the best evening xox

  • HAHAHAAA YES. I have the same kind of outfit. It’s a long skirt, and I’m not much of a skirt kind of girl. But besides being a long skirt…it is a light frothy confection of flouncy big layers.

    And on top of THAT, the layers are patterned with these bright kind of Mexican-restaurant shades of red and teal and black and green and there is gold thread shot all through it, and the pattern is wild and fiesta-ish and I think there are even some words in the pattern. It is a rainbow of big splashy colors and frothy bouncing layers of flowing fabric that swirl and move beautifully when I walk, and I feel like a superhero/castanet-playing bellydancer when I wear it. I have to be in just the right mood, and it has to be just the right day and the right event, right?

    So I wore it to a volley ball game. HAHAHAHAAAAA Best day ever.

    I think after 45 we get a pass, and we get to wear whatever makes us feel kickass, ANY DAY WE WANT.

    Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a prom dress to go try on.

    *whispers* “oh yes, I am that weird” πŸ˜‰ I just decided to embrace it.

  • I really wish I could say the same. I’m working on it, chipping away at it, even if it feels like I’m digging a tunnel out of Shawshank with a spoon. I’ll get there some day.

  • Well dang, I just cleaned out my dust bunny deposit bank and it was at a high level too! Guess I need to stick with generating income another way. Idea – wear your batman dress to your future retirement party. Sprinkle some dust bunnies on it. Voila!

  • I love this! I just happily discovered your blog, and love that you continue to move into being absolutely you. I’m 51 and still working on it too, but every day (or year) I get a bit better at it.

  • I made a black and gold lame cape years ago for Halloween. I love that cape – it’s all soft and silky and glistens in the light. It billows out behind me when I walk and I can swish it when I sit down. I would wear that cape every dxxx day, except the bats printed on it kind of ruin the β€œeveryday” look.

By Michelle


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