It’s one of those rare weekends. The kind where I can go out on a Friday night, stay up as long as I want, then wake up and do whatever I want all day long on Saturday. And go out I did. And lounge around I did. In fact, I come to you live with this post from the patio of Starbucks. I’m shamelessly geeking out with iPad in hand and iPhone for text messages, attempting to collect my thoughts and determine the best course of action for the day’s schedule.

Aside from that however, I began thinking about flip flops. You’re scratching your head at this point, and that’s ok. In due time young padewan, all truths will be revealed. You may find this hard to believe, but many moons ago, this ole boy was strictly against flip flops. The thought of them made me feel uncomfortable, questioning the sexuality of this rough and rugged man. I steered far away and left them for the women for fear of judgment by my other male friends. I would on occasion be caught wearing full fledged sandals. You know, the kind that look like Jesus would have worn them. They had a thick sole and Dr. Martens made them exclusively popular back in the day.

I’m older now. Almost 35 to be exact in 1 short month. Since my divorce 4 years ago and hitting that 30 mark, a lot has changed. My friends are different, my life is different, my ideas are different. I wear flip flops now. I can’t really pinpoint a fundamental reason for the change of heart, but I can tell you exactly when the flip flop theory flip flopped. It was the summer of 2008 and I was looking at the Crocs store for a new pair (those were manly enough despite their overall ugliness). I came across these flip flops that were, for all intensive purposes, nothing special, but they piqued my interest. They didn’t look like normal Crocs. They were in fact the epitome of flip flops. I tried them on and much to my surprise, they felt great! They molded to my foot and there was no discomfort having something between my toes. The sole was cushy; I felt like I was totally jellin’. I had to have them. But wait…this goes against everything manly in my mind. I don’t care. I didn’t care. I wanted them. Here we are 3 years later, and I still wear those exact same flip flops.

Other things changed too. It’s now acceptable for me to wear a messenger bag (even though it’s a purse). I carry my iPad, keyboard, chargers, hearing aid batteries, etc in it. I justify it constantly. I wear an apron now when I get deep into cooking. I use a loufa in the shower. I wear black belts with black shoes and brown belts with brown shoes. I don’t think this is the true definition of metrosexual, but I’ve been called that before.

Regardless, I’m happy with who I am. I’m not hopping any fences but I have many friends in the gay/lesbian community. They are normal people with normal lives and often hilarious antics up their sleeve. I’m not afraid to be who I am (and for the most part, never have been). I want my daughters to be who they are comfortable being, without the fear of being mocked or ridiculed. Individuality is key to your life’s happiness. If you have to pretend to be someone else, then you’ll never be living your own life. Don’t hop the fence just to please someone else or avoid persecution…be you…and enjoy it.