(Photo Credit: P. Furniss)

One could argue that as a mostly SAHM with a part-time job that I wear scrubs for, my personal style doesn’t matter. And really, it doesn’t.

I leave my house to go grocery shopping and take my kids to activities or to the library. I go out on dates with my husband or leave the house by myself about twice a month. And when I say go out by myself, I usually mean, solo grocery shopping. I go to church on Sunday. Otherwise, I’m almost never Out In Public.

A lot of life feels like a struggle right now. Home school burnout has been bubbling up for a couple of years now. There are a lot of littles in our house. I get overstimulated. I’m struggling internally because I have everything I need and almost everything I want, and I’m still anxious and depressed.

Life feels hard, and no matter what I wear.

When I was a kid, I wore whatever I wanted. I was home schooled, and there was no one to tell me that what I was wearing wasn’t cool. I wore mismatched socks when they weren’t in style.

In high school, I dressed like a skater chick. Nevermind that I lacked the skills to use the skateboard I bought for $5 at a yard sale because I felt guilty for dressing like a skater chick when I didn’t know how to skate.

In college, I was trying to figure out what I liked. I had a vague idea of what I was going for, but didn’t have a good clear sense of style. I knew I was too old for the skater look, but wasn’t really sure what came next.

Over the next ten years, I slowly worked through what I wanted for myself. I was confident enough that when trends I didn’t like came along, I just didn’t go for them (read: skinny jeans). It’s easy to know what you don’t like.

Over the past five years, especially after I did Kon Marie and the Curated Closet, I started to feel like I knew what I wanted in terms of personal style and I could make it happen. As our family grew, it felt more important for me to feel put together when I was out, but also at home – I don’t want to look like the harried, frazzled mega mom, even if I AM the harried, frazzled mega mom.

What I’m doing every day feels futile. Things pile up as quickly as I can take care of them.

As I’m struggling – what makes me feel more like I can DO it? Do I feel like a conqueror when I leave my pajama pants on all day? Or does it make a difference if I put on some mascara, make my hair stand on end, and throw on a version of my uniform? If I have an extra moment, put on some eyeliner for an especially bad ass demeanor?

It does make a difference. Even if I’m back in pajamas by the time only other adult I see on a daily basis, my spouse, gets home. For whatever reason, getting myself together in the morning helps me face the day with a little more gumption.

In order to even begin to meet my own expectations, and keep up with my responsibilities, I have to be Wonder Woman, which I’m not. But wearing my uniform brings me a little closer to the Killing It Mama I aspire to be.