My (Old) Story

I had a dream of being a famous and highly sought after dancer and choreographer – mostly on Broadway.  I had this dream since I was five years old.  I love the act of performing.  The stage has always been “home” to me.  I was free when I performed.  I could breathe deeper when I performed – in such a way that any other activity I did was a struggle, but dancing was the most natural thing I ever did.  I was always creating new routines to new (and old) songs I heard on the radio.  I was choreographing for as far back as I can remember.  I even had my first paying choreography gig my senior year in high school.  I am a creator!  Stifling my personal creativity is akin to putting a pillow over my face and holding it there until I’m dead.

Upon choosing the life of wife and mother, I convinced myself that my childhood dream was just an illusion – the stuff of myths and legends.  I was an “adult” now, so I had to start acting like one, right?  Right?

I have had that conversation in my head for over a quarter of a century.  Every time I’d watch the Tony Awards on television, and all their musical performances, I’d feel that old part of me creeping up like the Boogieman – letting me know that she’s not as far away from me than I had thought or hoped.  Every year, I’m reduced to tears as I watch that awards show, knowing that my heart still longs to be there.  It’s where it belongs and I know it.  

Does that mean that I dash off to NYC on a wing and a prayer?  No.  It’s not that I am longing for NYC as much as I am longing just to perform once again.  To engage that creative “I Am” that is the soul of Me.  I am creative and I’m realizing how ignoring that, stuffing that down and living (existing) in utter and complete denial of that is doing many things:

• Killing me, inside and out
• Taking me off (WAY off) the path of learning what I’m supposed to learn in this life
• Preventing me from giving (joy, love, happiness and all the really genuine and good stuff) to others fully
• Limiting the potential within myself to grow and expand as a human being
• Showing my kids the lesson that living a lie is okay, acceptable and even encouraged
• Costing me my bliss, my happiness for the sake of conformity

After over 25 years, a failed marriage and the failure of another long-term relationship, I have rediscovered who I really am.  I am living my life according to what my soul knows is true and real – not what society, my family, the media or any other person on this earth expects me to do or be in order to make them more comfortable.  My desires, my wants, my needs and my preferences matter to ME, and I will let them have the attention and respect they deserve, even if no one else gives two shits about them.  It doesn’t matter what “they” want right now – It’s MY turn!

Ever see a plant growing and thriving in the most unusual or inhospitable place?  I have often.  When you see it in nature or someplace “wild” and “untamed”, it’s often viewed as beautiful and an absolute miracle, right?  That lone plant becomes an instant inspiration of will and determination NOT to be told where it can grow, live and thrive.

Now, take that idea of the rebellious, strong-willed, determined and untamed plant and make it a dandelion growing in a crack of your driveway.  Right smack dab in the middle of it with no other plants even close to it.  What is your opinion of it and your attitude toward it now?

Let me guess – “DESTROY THAT LITTLE BASTARD!”

How dare that “weed” grow where you don’t want it!  You don’t care if you have to rip that bugger out – roots and all – or drop a nuclear bomb on that sucker, but it must be eradicated and DIE! 

Why?  Because you have an HOA breathing down your neck, telling you how your home – the one place in the world that you call your own – MUST look?  And, what would the neighbors think if they were to see such “neglect” of your personal property?  The horror!  The shame!  *faint*

But, wait…Why is it okay for that plant to grow in the wild but becomes the enemy on your own property?  Where did the beauty of it and the miracle of it go once it shows up in your driveway?  Are you placing your own (and that of your neighbors) objective opinion and judgment on this resilient plant?  How do you like it when that happens (or has happened) to you or someone you love?  Why is this behavior and attitude okay and acceptable in one situation or location and not another?  What changed?

My story is not unique.  It’s not even that tragic or exciting.  But, it is the story of my past.  I’ve allowed others to write my story for me all my life.  It took 43 years and two failed adult relationships to see this, understand this, accept this, forgive this, learn some very necessary lessons and choose differently.  I look forward to writing a new story of my life, but I’m done telling the first one just yet.

To be continued…