“I need makeup,” I told my stepson.
We were in costume to role-play his latest adventure.
He was going to be a shadow demon, while his dad and I were warriors.
However, as a warrior, a sweater and jeans would NOT cut it for me.
So I swapped into what I thought was a much more appropriate combination of black, red and leather — to match the cool ninja armor chestplate thingie my stepson was lending me.
But gah, my face.
It’s the kind of face that strikes someone as possibly cute, but not … fear-inducing, strike-terror-into-their-hearts kind of warrior-level face.
(Rather like my drawing style, actually.)
“I need makeup,” I told my stepson again, thinking at least some black eyeliner would help.
“No you don’t,” he said.
“But I don’t look intimidating! See? Garrrargh,” I growled, trying to seem fierce, and showing him how un-fierce I was.
“You don’t need to look intimidating when you look beautiful,” he said.
[insert melting heart here]
So I skipped the makeup, and I embraced the warrior — whatever that looked like.
This was a few months ago, before all this coronavirus stuff sent the world into hiding.
But the idea is the same. Almost more now than it had been at the time.
These days, everyone’s being shoved into roles that aren’t usually theirs.
Extroverts are expected to be homebodies.
Parents are expected to be teachers.
Teachers are expected to lead classes remotely.
Kids are expected to roll with the punches and not stress out any adults.
Grocery store workers and health care staff are expected to be on the front lines of a war.
On and on it goes.
This isn’t us. This isn’t who we normally are.
We need to remember that.
We’re doing the best we can. We’re working with what we have.
And we aren’t going to be what we, well, aren’t.
As my stepson said, you don’t need to be [insert new role here] when you’re already your beautiful self.
So skip the makeup, and embrace the warrior — whatever that looks like.