Some days I feel pretty “normal.” I mean, as I interact with my friends and neighbors I don’t feel particularly strange. I dress like a “normal” person (mostly). I can talk about “normal” things (again, mostly). And, let’s be honest, I don’t really stand out in a crowd.
But then I have those days where I feel… well, not normal. Like, really not normal.
I start my day by washing my face with honey. I usually have a warm breakfast with food that we bought from a local farmer. I take a shower—but don’t shampoo my hair (too many toxins, you know). Instead I use a baking soda/water mixture that I combined in a little squirt bottle. I completely skip any sort of conditioner (thank you, short hair!). Forget about makeup (okay, occasionally I’ll put on a bit of natural mascara). And before leaving the house I always make sure to swipe on some deodorant that I made myself.
I clean my house with a simple vinegar solution. I walk barefoot as much as possible. When I wear shoes, a heel of any height is unlikely to be found.
You won’t find many (if any) processed foods in my house. For that matter, you won’t find fragrances, perfumes (thank you, essential oils), or cabinets full of over the counter drugs.
I use coconut oil instead of baby lotion. Almond oil as moisturizer. And a handmade heating pad for cramps.
Homebirthin’, organic chewin’, cloth diaperin’, E-C’n, raw milk drinkin’, questionin’ vaccinations, baby-wearin’, and homemade toothpastin’ are all words you could use to describe me.
But it’s not those things that make me feel “not normal.” In fact, these are the things that make me feel empowered—as if I’m the master of my own world. These are the things that remind me that I have an ability to transform my life, learn new skills, and strip away all the unnecessary clutter that society tells me I need.
I didn’t grow up living like this. Nope. I grew up very “mainstream.” I ate Pop-tarts for breakfast. I loved to experiment with all sorts of different hair products (none of which worked, thank-you-very-much). And I pretty much just followed suit.
At some point is just stopped making sense. I realized that I didn’t know much about the world I lived in—the natural, complex world that our bodies are connected to. And somewhere along the way (very gradually at first) I stepped off of “normal” and found… me.
And that’s probably why I don’t feel normal. It’s because I’m not. But you know what? I wouldn’t have it any other way.
What about you? Would you describe yourself as normal? And what is “normal,” anyway?