Depending on When You Met Me

Depending on when you met me, I might have been a pigtailed girl, nicknamed Motormouth, who loved people and would talk to anyone about anything, forever.

Depending on when you met me, I might have been a tall third grader sitting in the back of the classroom at a messy desk, pulling sheets of glue off my hands, making fingernails out of tape, talking, and being reprimanded for not paying attention.

Depending on when you met me, I might have been a fifth grader excited to be wearing her first pair of discount (but real) Jordache jeans, who left school with a "stomach ache" when the popular kids, who I'd hoped would notice me teased me instead.

Depending on when you met me, I might have been a seventh grader who discovered that the smart kids were nicer than the popular kids (who didn't like me anyway), who transformed overnight from a mediocre student sneaking her mother's purple eyeshadow to an argyle vest-wearing straight A student (still sneaking her mother's eyeshadow).

Depending on when you met me, I might have been a flute playing, high-strung, people-pleasing teenager, sitting in the back of AP classes frantically calculating and recalculating my average after every assignment.

Depending on when you met me, I might have been an unlikely sorority girl, living in cheap off-campus housing in upstate New York, dressed in purple, and happily singing my heart out as I walked arm-in-arm across campus with my sisters.

Depending on when you met me, I might have been a recent college graduate living in London, commuting on The Tube to a primary school in the East End, with no idea of how to teach my adorably uniformed students.

Depending on when you met me, I might have been six months older, traveling solo across Europe by train, sleeping in hostels, meeting people and seeing sights I had only read about.

Depending on when you met me, I might have been a new teacher living in Massachusetts, loving my job and spending so many hours at school that the evening custodian told me to get a life. 

Depending on when you met me, I might have been a new wife, giving myself daily fertility injections and praying every month to see a plus sign that seemed like it would never come.

Depending on when you met me, I might have been a new mother of twins, with a baby on each hip, living in a world of diapers, bottles, and baby naps, and loving every messy minute.

Depending on when you met me, I might have been a MOM - a carpool driving, Girl Scout leading, chorus watching, basketball cheering, substitute teaching, dinner cooking, bedtime story reading MOM.

Depending on when you met me, I might have been an old new teacher, rediscovering my career, and learning to balance parenthood and teaching.

Depending on when you meet me, I might be someone I can only now imagine.