I used to be a good girl. You know: the girl who never took the last piece of fried chicken, or that last slice of cake, but left it for someone else. It didn’t matter whether I was still hungry or not. I used to be the girl who feared reprisals for selfish acts or thoughts, real or imagined when I was growing up. The young woman who heard herself saying yes to a request when her mind and body screamed no, hey, that was me. 

Being ‘good’ was my mother’s decree, so I had little choice in the matter. Mother told me that good girls did not pop gum, cross their legs, or pierce their ears. Her idea of ‘Girls Gone Wild’ were little girls who failed to comb their ‘kitchens’ (the hair at the nape of their necks) or who refused to clean up their rooms.

Thus these beliefs have been a part of me for most of my life and I revisited them over and over until I felt woozy. One day I decided that enough was enough and I refused to be a good girl any longer. I needed to unleash the person that I was.

This transformation did not happen over night. I started with baby steps: like eating chocolate cake for breakfast, something that mother wouldn’t have approved. I got my ears pieced: but not with just one hole, but three holes in one ear.  I decided the other would only have two. 

I indulged in other impulsive acts. I ripped the tags off of pillows with abandon. Nothing happened! I took the last piece of chicken without feeling the lease bit guilty. I wore white well after Labor Day. I drank a lot wine before it had a chance to breathe. I was truly a girl gone wild.

After spending the first 20 years of my life in church, I finally acknowledged to myself that I was more spiritual than religious. Once lightening didn’t strike me after this revelation, I made peace with that knowledge.

Before you think that I have turned into this self-absorbed heathen, you need to know that there are many things I still believe in. I believe in observing the Golden Rule and treating people the way that I wish to be treated. I still say my prayers at night; sometimes I kneel, while other times I lay in my bed. I pray for myself, family and friends and for peace in the world. As a veteran of a war, I know first hand how fleeting peace can be.

Friends and colleagues know that once I commit to something that they can count on me to do whatever it is. I hope that they also know that I am only a phone call away if they ever need me.

Today as I unleash my inner-girl, I take pleasure in cracking my gum, thankful that at 50-something that I still have teeth in which to do so. Crossing my legs I say good-bye forever to the good girl, and say a raucous hello to the real me.