that confident, unafraid, woman that speaks so eloquently,

(like my girl, Sarah)

that everyone calls “classy” and “graceful,”
(Two icons of grace … Grace Kelly and Audrey Hepburn)
that sings like this,
that bakes cookies that look like this,
and wears one of these while she’s baking them,

that is in amazing physical shape because she plays tennis every day with her friends, and wears cute little skirts like this,
that her daughters love to hang out with, just for fun,
that her husband always thinks is “hot,” even when she looks like this, … oh, yeah … that he also deeply respects,
that keeps her house spic-n-span with little effort and always has an organized home and closet,
(notice, this is just shoes)
that has a great sense of humor, and everyone loves to be with because she’s as funny or funnier than this.
(I’ll take being as funny as either one of these ladies, my favorites.)
Too much pressure. Excuse the feelings of inadequacy.
What was I thinking?
I’ll just stick with being me.