An Ibis Among Flamingos

I went to the Pittsburgh Zoo a couple of weeks ago and was admiring the flamingos. I have always found it interesting that they get their pink color from the shrimp that they eat. While gazing at them as they pruned and had a mid day snack, it was hard to not notice the ibis that was in the same enclosure. (The zookeeper informed me his name is Donnie Ibis, a joke most Pittsburghers will get.)

It turns out the white ibis is in with the flamingos because they had nowhere else to put him. He seemed to get along well enough with his fellow feathered companions, but it was blatantly obvious that he was different than his pink pen mates...he didn't quite fit in.

I'm an ibis.

Don't get me wrong, I have been blessed with some of the greatest friends in the world. I believe I am well-liked. And yet, it seems that I never quite fit in with large groups. I'm not great at being one of the flock. This isn't a recent revelation. In high school I had a solid group of friends, but they didn't all belong to one cliche clique. I had jock friends, nerd friends, goth friends, band friends and so on and so forth. There was no one group I fully identified with, and I was ok with that.

College was no different. I didn't have a solid label. I was a college athlete, a was a thespian and I was youth minister at my church. All three of these groups provided me with great friends, but no one group to call my own. I was again a bit of a floater.

Fast forward to today. I am 36-years-old. A devoted wife, a loving mother, and a mostly well-adjusted member of society. I live a life typical of most suburban moms. I drive the mini van to soccer practice, run forgotten homework to the middle school, I push the stroller around the cul-de-sac after the dinner plates have been loaded into the dishwasher.

When I see a fellow mom at the grocery store we stand and talk for ten minutes (or until one of us is dragged away by a child) about what class our kids are in or how ridiculous the amount of homework is that is sent home. Despite the pleasantries and the eerily similar lives, I have never stopped feeling like the ibis.

Do you know the feeling? You're standing around a picnic in a circle talking, and yet you are right on the outside...somebody's shoulder somehow blocking you from really being part of the conversation? A Facebook post showing a picture of your kids' friends all at a local park for a giant playdate, but you missed the memo? Always kind of wondering if you missed a "Stepford Wives" meeting that would explain exactly what is expected.

For a while it was really bothering me. Do people not like me? Do I give off a bad vibe? Why weren't Joe and I invited out with the crowd?

Looking at the ibis, though, I realized it is ok to not be another pink dot on the canvas. I really do have amazing people in my life. My life is not defined by the clique I most identify with or by my Friday night social engagements. I have an opportunity to teach my kids to embrace being a unique spirit, to always try to be an ibis, or hummingbird or emu...whatever they are called in their hearts to be - never to conform to what they believe people expect them to be.

I am blessed to have a beautiful flock of my own. I have a place where I know I belong and am loved exactly as I am. What else could I ask for?