I saw her as I was waiting in line at the health insurance office. Her hair was longish and dark, like mine, but hers fell in gorgeous waves and her fringe softly framed her pretty face. She was wearing a beautifully fine cream knitted sweater with a grey knee length tweed skirt, and leather wedges that looked both comfy and cool. I could not stop staring at her. I had a bad case of outfit envy. And hair envy. And life envy.
I was feeling particularly frazzled and frumpy that day. ‘I bet she has it all together’, I thought. She has probably just dropped her perfect kids off at their perfect school, now she is out doing some shopping in her perfect outfit before going home to her perfect house. I basically invented a whole life for this woman, based on her (super stylish) appearance.
Then it was my turn to come up to the counter. As I did, I overheard her speaking to the lady behind the desk. She was discussing the amounts she had paid for her various IVF treatments. I suddenly saw her in a whole different light.
She was just a woman, like me. With struggles and challenges, like me.
I was reminded, in that moment, of all the things I have to be grateful for. That nobody’s life is perfect.
And as we walked out of the door, I gave my son’s hand an extra tight squeeze.
Image via The Paris Apartment