By Michelle Carr
I’m sitting on a couch in a hotel lobby in Washington D.C., capital of the United States. I sit amongst a circle of people who are very different, yet share a common love of the outdoors and protecting it. We had just gotten back from a fantastical dinner and were relaxing over some adult beverages. After a couple days filled with training, we were eager to have such down time moments.
It quickly became story time and I happily settled in and began listening to stories of their work, funny memories, their challenges and their successes. Even though I found them all fascinating, there was one lady that stuck out. Her stories reflected a life of hard work and strong character. She had achieved that perfect mix of strength and kindness. I adored the passion she displayed for protecting the things in life that she held dear. One of her many passions were turtles. She strove to protect their nests and help ensure the babies made it out to the big blue once they hatched. You could see and feel her love for her work as she spoke of her experiences. She began to speak of those who came to help her. Reflecting, that as with everything, you have those who are eager to help but don’t know what they are getting in to. Here is where she paused and asked us all to hold out our hands so she could see them.
Here is where I paused. I am not one to get my nails routinely manicured by a professional. I’m a tomboy. I can’t stand having fake nails. Now I’m not putting down anyone that does. I’m just saying that for me and what I do daily, they are a hindrance and not a benefit. I have only ever had fake nails put on twice in my lifetime. Both were for weddings and I felt so awkward. I struggled with everything from putting my contacts in to opening anything that I could normally just rip open. After weeks of frustration, both times, I swore it wouldn’t happen again. I don’t even normally wear nail polish. When I do manage to paint my own nails it chips off within a couple of days and I end up sporting chipped polish for weeks. I’m honestly lucky if I remember to take a moment to file my nails. (I’m such a slacker.) So most of the time my nail length ranges from super long to oh my God I just ripped that one off to the pink and I kinda cried. Truly my hands, minus adding lotion to them, are not on my mind often. They are simply the appendages that which I use to get things done.
And…. now that you know probably way more about my hand grooming habits than you care to know, my point is that I hesitated. For that brief few seconds, I hesitated. I am one that wouldn’t have looked at someone else and said “oh your nails aren’t painted or filed we can’t hang out”. I’m not perfect and say so often, so I don’t expect others to be either. I am one that hopes to encourage everyone to just be yourself, and hell if you stand out that’s an awesome thing because YOU aren’t like everyone else. In this moment I scanned my brain … like I can wear a Chewbacca onesie to the movie theater, I can dance in front of a crowd like no one is watching, I can put my thoughts into words and post them for the world to see but now suddenly I’m nervous. Nervous to put out my hand and scare away these people that I have so come to admire. I kicked myself in the butt and bravely stuck out my hand. Then I take in all the other hands that surround mine and you aren’t gonna believe this but they all looked very similar. The speaker smiled at us and said “You know what, not a manicure in the bunch. All of you are welcomed to come work with my turtles any day.” She went on to explain that with all the digging one must do in the sand with their hands that those who have manicures don’t tend to stay or be able to help much. So my ungroomed hands were perfectly perfect just as they were.
My point in all of this is that everyone is searching for their tribe. That no matter who you are and how much you love to stand out or don’t care to be like everyone else, you still long to feel included somewhere. It’s in our nature to crave to be understood and feel accepted for who we are. That even I, who often find myself happy with my weirdness, couldn’t have wanted that group to like me more than I did in that moment of fear to show my hand. It’s natural. You want those you admire to like you back. The tricky part is to not change in order for them to like you. I knew in that moment, when sticking out my hand, that had the reaction been bad I wouldn’t have changed and sadly that person or persons weren’t my tribe. The beauty is in that single moment that you do something weird or brave or stand against the tide and someone looks at you and says “YES! SHINE ON!”, that person or that group is probably your tribe. There is magic in that moment of being completely accepted for who you are. No matter how near or far you might be from one another, it’s a gift that you carry with you always. Shine on dear ones, shine on.
