Though I don’t often refer to myself as such, I think I have Rebel Blood in me. Yes, I can see some of you, who know me on a daily basis, chuckling. Dear, sweet Chere, the woman who everyone loves, a rebel? Hardly. But….
When I moved from Ontario to BC with my new husband, everyone I knew snickered and told me I wouldn’t make it. I mean, everyone. My family, particularly my brothers. My roommates. Pretty much all of my friends. You see, I was the good girl, the quiet girl, the girl who never made waves. The girl who never questioned authority, but always did as she was told. Except for this time. This time, I was told I would never make it, moving all that way across the country. I still remember the shocked look on their faces, which immediately turned to disbelief. And then they’d start laughing. Yes, I guess I was that predictable. But, guess what? I made it. Hell, yeah.
Then there was the day I graduated from college as a dental assistant. I remember standing among my fellow students as the awards were passed out. The award for best marks. The award for Most Valuable Student (or whatever they called it – you get what I mean, right?) The awards for the best, smartest, highest valued according to popularity, all that stupid stuff that nobody cares about. That won’t make one bit of difference in the real world.
As those awards were passed out, I stood there wondering..where’s the award for the girl who shattered her pelvis a week before school started, came to class in a body cast, and never missed a day? Where’s the award for the single mom who got up earlier than everybody else to get her kid to daycare so she could provide her daughter with a better life? How about the award for the practicum student who endured a freaking abusive relationship with the dentist she was sent to, to obtain her hours? What about those awards?
See? Rebellion. Showing up again.
Later in life, well, there was rebellion that wasn’t the positive kind. I just got really tired of being a good girl. Enough said. I’ll leave the rest to your imaginations.
Nowadays, I like to think I fight for the underdog. I like to believe that things others are pretty sure cannot be done, in fact, can, indeed, be done. And I like to think for the most part I don’t give a damn about what people think of me, though that’s probably not truly true, as much as I want it to be.
I’ve come full circle, in some ways. I’m still dear. I’m still sweet. But I’m dear, and sweet, on my terms nowadays. Not anybody else’s. I can be nice, too. But not always. Nowadays I’m learning to say what needs to be said.
But, if you’re going to tell me I can’t do something, that it’s just not possible, well, stand back. Because I can. I already have, a multitude of times.
And I will, a multitude more.
Just watch me….