Yesterday I walked out to my mailbox. I heard the gravel crunch under the high heel of my shoes and sort of smirked. Then I opened the mailbox & staring at me was a glossy copy of W Magazine with a beautiful intriguing cover shot. I was entranced until all of the sudden a giant grasshopper jumped up and landed on the leg of my skinny jeans. Inside I screamed a little bit but the new found country girl just kept walking as it jumped back off. Images of gravel, high heels, skinny jeans, W magazine, my tractor shaped mailbox and the giant grasshopper swirled around in my head for a while. I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about any of it.
You see I had a slight identity crisis when I packed up my bags and left the city and moved into the country. I wondered whether who I am would change (intentionally or not) once I moved to the country. I suppose I wondered if there was a box I would have to fit in if I moved out onto a gravel road. Just writing this down makes me feel a little silly & naïve but hey it‘s true. Upon arrival on said country road I was determined that I would not become country (even though I am not sure I knew what that meant). I was stubbornly decided that I would not conform. And then it finally hit me, maybe a little before the grasshopper jumped on my leg, that I can be me wherever I am. I can embrace some of the things that I love about country life and not loose my identity. That the girl in high heels and skinny jeans still exists and with the charms of country life she has become even better!