The day after the New Year rang in, I took a break from storm watching online to browse other news stories. (After all, reading multiple updates about frigid wind-chills and snow accumulations can quickly move one from excitement to depression).  As I scanned through various headlines from Yahoo, I saw a couple updates as to how various female celebrities had celebrated their New Year’s Eve.  My first thought was “who really cares?”.  But after scrolling through some other news stories, I found myself going back with some curiosity.  We all for some reason seem to have an innate interest in how “the others” live.

Apparently the south was the hot place to be – figuratively and literally.  Demi Moore had gone to Mexico, ringing in the New Year with her daughter.  How nice.  The next story was about Jennifer Aniston and her fiancé enjoying time in Los Cabos with a bunch of other famous friends like Courtney Cox, Howard Stern and his wife, Jimmy Kimmel…  and oh, gee, apparently Beyonce and Jay Z were partying in Miami.

Once again I was struck by how different their lives are from the majority of us Real Women.  I sat back and compared for a moment.  I, like many other R.W.’s I had chatted with, had gone out for an early supper with my family on New Year’s Eve, then headed home to watch a movie in our jammies, then watch the ball drop and went to bed.  The following day was a quiet one at home.  Then it was back to work during the first bad snow storm of the season, while juggling closed schools, changes to appointments, and determining when to get to the grocery store.

Instead of lounging on a beach in a tiny bikini looking rather amazing, I was crawling into baggy sweaters and stretchy pants to hide my holiday-caloric-intact bulk, and pulling on fuzzy socks over feet that haven’t had a pedicure in months.

Am I jealous of those privileged “others”?  Maybe in part.  Would I like to have the leisure time and funds to hang out in tropics, having flown in a group of friends to have fun and party, rather than worrying about my house pipes freezing in -11 degree temperatures while I pay bills and climb out of holiday debt?  Sure.  Would I like to have a staff of trainers, chefs and stylists to ensure I always look and feel amazing?  That would be lovely.   But as for the rest of it?  Not so much.

I don’t have paparazzi hiding in my bushes taking long-distance grainy photos of me to share with millions of judgmental strangers.  I don’t have the media analyzing how I look to then report to the world that I either look great, or that I’ve “let myself go”.  I didn’t have someone trying to get a photo of my husband and I sharing a kiss on New Year’s Eve… just as well, we really aren’t as sexy as Jennifer and Justin.

No, instead, we Real Women have the ability if we want to be in our nice cozy private homes in our jammies and fuzzy slippers, taking down holiday decorations and eating junk food.  We can go to the gym and come home all sweaty and gross and no one really cares.  We can shop at Marshall’s, Dress Barn and Target and fill our closets for the cost of one celebrity gown.  Sure, we have our moments when we have to put on our public faces and be fabulous.  But most of the time, we can just be ourselves.  Amazing Real Women who don’t make the headlines.

Happy New Year to you all – no matter how you chose to celebrate it.