Originally written May 2012
I don’t speak perfect English, and I don’t always know the proper social graces.
I’ve never been comfortable with the Australian way of greeting people by kissing cheeks, and I’ve never had much of a “lady-like” demeanour. If anything, I’ve probably always been a little more childlike.
I rush to the door to greet visitors without shoes on.
Sometimes my hair is still wet when someone arrives.
My hands are calloused, my nails are rarely perfectly groomed, and I’m far more comfortable in shorts and a shirt than anything elegant.
I don’t always walk straight. I hunch my back.
I don’t sit perfectly upright either; I tend to lean back.
And yes, sometimes I even yawn in the middle of a conversation. 
I knew even then that none of these things fitted the picture I had in my head of how a proper lady was supposed to behave.
But apparently I had married the right man.
Because when I listed all the ways I thought I was failing at being suitably ladylike, Graeme’s assessment was much simpler:
“You are alright.”
And really, perhaps that was all I needed to know.
Stories Along the Way 