Wranglers.
Today I wore wranglers. They weren't even that uncomfortable, even though they were really high waisted.
So I thought to myself about why I haven't worn wrangers in about three years.
Rebellion perhaps. I think that sometimes I rebel against who I am, afraid that someone isn't going to accept me.
But why do I worry about acceptance?
The funny thing is, when we long for acceptance we do one of two things. We do what we think everyone wants us to do so they will accept us, or we directly rebel against it, pretending that we don't care what they think.
The truth is found in neither option. If I were free, I would continue to be me regardless of what anyone thinks, but at the same time I would not try to offend them directly.
I am guilty of trying to gain acceptance the wrong way.
So I didn't wear wranglers, both to prove to Dad that I didn't need his acceptance, and to gain acceptance from those who didn't approve of my western lifestyle.
BUT, That is who I am. I am western, I am a cowgirl. I love horses, I like the way wranglers look on my butt. My family are cowboy. When I have a house, I want to make it western. That is who I am. Why try to change it, why try to hide it.
So, the final conclusion... if I feel like wearing wranglers, I will. If not, I won't.
And the next time someone looks at me and tells me they hate cowboys I won't be afraid to tell them I am one of them.