Defining Yourself

Defining Yourself #realoilfieldwives“Hi! This is Ashley, Ryan’s wife.”

“Good Morning! This is Ashley, Ani’s mom.”

…I do this all the time: making phone calls, running into people at the grocery store I seldom see, introducing myself to strangers, making appointments, and so on. It never fails. Why do I feel the need to place a title with my name?

Easy. Because I don’t think people will know who I am otherwise. I don’t think that when the person I’m intending to call answers the phone and I say “This is Ashley” will know who I am.

I’m “that girl” that blends in everywhere I go. I know people because I’m a nice person and I’m observant. I try to remember the people I meet. I may not know every first name, but I remember their faces and their first impressions. I like to make new friends, and although I remember them they rarely remember me.

Maybe it’s because I’m one of the few hundred thousand “Ashleys” in the world (trust me; my children will never have common names). Maybe it’s because no matter how badly I want to, I still struggle with being who I really am in public. Maybe it is because I’m quiet and I don’t say or do anything to stand out in their minds. I’m the run-of-the-mill “girl next door” and I’m too damn nice. That’s why.

I feel like everything about me defines who I am, besides who I really am. Does that make sense? First and foremost, if someone asks me about myself I’ll tell them I’m a mom. That’s the most important thing to me, so it doesn’t bother me. However, the other things kind of do tick me off when I feel the need to “explain” myself. People don’t need to know which side of town I live on, who my great-grandfather was, who my in-laws are, and who my friends are.

Looking like an exhausted shell of a woman standing in line, “I have a 3-year-old who doesn’t sleep well.”

All alone with a ring on my finger, a child in tow, and a cart full of groceries (every.single.time.), “My husband works out of town.”

“As if it’s any of their business to begin with,” I scoff! But then my conscience comes in and whispers “…calm thyself, they didn’t even ask!” …Point well made, conscience. It’s me who feels as though I need to explain.

I’m not saying I’m not proud of the things that make me who I am, because that certainly isn’t the case. I just wish that I could somehow find a way to be who I am without a title behind my name.

I’m Ashley. I hope one day very soon that will be good enough for me.

How do you define yourself in a world full of titles?

About ashley

Ashley and her husband, Ryan, have been married for 4 years. They became an oilfield family in March of 2011. They live in Northeastern Pennsylvania with their 2 year old daughter, Anistyn, and two fur-children: Kora (the manic Australian Cattle Dog) and Jaxx (your typical lazy house cat). Ashley traded in her various degrees and certifications to take on her ultimate dream job of fulltime mommy and wife. When not throwing over-the-top toddler dance parties and reading the same storybook 104 times in a row she enjoys reading her own books, baking, writing, meeting new friends, trying new things, and saving every animal in need on the planet!

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