Those who know me personally, know that I have a fondness for alter-egos. An alter-ego is basically a character you pull out of yourself that allows you to do the things your normal self would be too chicken to do. Forgive me for this example but take Beyonce. She has Sasha Fierce when it's time to get crazy on stage. Dr. Jekyll turned into Mr. Hyde when it was time to get psychopathic. Me? I have Spidy Clamburger.
Spidy is basically the flirty girl that pushes the boundaries (even if it's the boundaries of good taste or judgment). She's the single girl, the Friday night into Saturday morning chick, the one that will wear that dress, the one that unabashedly flirts with the guy she's feeling for the night. She laughs loud, drinks too much. Spidy lives for the moment and the moments have to be fun, sexy, zero to sixty. She barrels through the night like a conquistador cutting through...well, every Latin American country. You get the point.
Spidy has been with me since I got separated from my husband about two years ago. It felt like I had to prove that I was still young and vibrant. Marriage seemed to have dulled a lot of my edges whether it was intellectually, sexually or emotionally. I wasn't really focused artistically since my husband (albeit a very good person) was not intellectual or creative so I failed to pursue those things on my own to be more in step with him. Sexually I suffered because I was unhealthy (ballooned up to 260lbs but that is for another post, another day) which does a lot to one's body image. Emotionally, I was having an existential crisis. Marriage only made me ask myself, is this it? Will the rest of my days be this monotonous? Enter Spidy.
As with all good things, too much of it makes you sick. Spidy has become a monster, my friends. The flirting is fun until you get labeled a loca, and while being single isn't a cause to hurl oneself into the sea in despair, it would be nice to have a serious date. (Dare I say a few? With the same person? Yes! Gasp.) The all night house-parties, the clubs and lounges until the wee hours are a blast but weekend after weekend they begin to feel like a chore and a job unto itself. Something shifted. My creativity shifted into gear again and I found that I liked doing lots of things even if they were solitary and quiet. Writing, reading, listening to music, popping in a good DVD, hitting the gym and feeling accomplished, spending time with my dad, cracking jokes in the living room with Elizabeth, having lunch with girlfriends, cooking, a walk with my dog. They appealed to me as better ways to spend a Sunday than hungover.
It called for a new alter-ego. Enter Lady Bradshaw. That's the woman who can flirt without being bawdy. Who is single but sending vibes out for a more serious equal as opposed to a dirtbag. The lady that can still hit a house party but knows when to call it a night (certainly not at 6 in the morning!). She's witty not funny, outgoing but not loud. She has limits and expectations.
Old habits are indeed hard to break and I'm not saying Spidy will never rear her loca head again but I think as I'm on the cusp of another phase of womanhood, turning 30 this year, a change would be a breath of fresh air.
Addendum: Spidy Clamburger was coined by by coworker because of my spidey-sense regarding male matters and Clamburger by my girl who writes Random Musings (check out her blog on my sidebar). Clamburger being another word for vagina.
Lady Bradshaw was born from a conversation with my same friend where we talked about being more lady-like (namely ME being more lady-like) and I made some pretty awful but funny Carrie Bradshaw-like puns.
