The dream I almost gave up on

I’ve always wanted to be in the spotlight, to make it big in the music industry. But at seventeen, I really thought that my music career wasn’t going anywhere. I constantly compared myself to other people and always thought that I was worse. What I didn’t realize was that I was just starting out and had a lot to learn. But that didn’t stop me from deciding to end my career before it started.

It all started when I found myself feeling extremely jealous of a fifteen year old who had taken the part in a play that I had wanted. I had faced a lot of rejection in the past but I thought this particular audition was a sure thing. I didn’t even get a lead role which made me question my entire musical ability. After the play was over, I decided I was done with music in all capacities, including the theatre. I still played piano and guitar to keep my skills up to par, but other than that I stopped trying altogether.

I thought I’d be teaching and preforming music for the rest of my life – it was even my major in college. But I decided to switch majors to social work and counseling. My new focus was great and I enjoyed studying it, but I had to ignore the nagging in my gut that told me I’d only ever be truly happy performing in order to move on with my life. I tried to forget the feeling of joy that preforming on stage brought me.

That went on for about six months until I went to a friend’s concert. Halfway through she called me on stage to do a duet of a song we had written together about a year before. She knew that I had given up preforming, but she was never one to give up and thought I was making a big mistake by giving up myself. After about five minutes of heckling, I finally went on stage. The moment I turned to the crowd, it all came back: the adrenaline that you get when the audience claps, the beat of the drum, the heat of the lights. All at once, my fire was reignited and I felt extremely foolish for giving up so easily.

I decided to return to music, but to take a new approach. I went back to my original plan for school and began to teach myself new ways of handling rejection. I enrolled myself in piano lessons to refresh my memory and started writing songs on my guitar again. I’m finally ready to begin writing an album.

Even though I have a long way to go, especially after this set back, I have to thank the people who kept pestering me to return to what I love. They knew deep down that in the end if I didn’t do what I truly loved I wouldn’t be happy.

I wish somebody had told me before I tried to give up on my dream that when life gets hard you just can’t bail, but rather you have to keep going and keep fighting for what you believe in and what you love, because in the end that’s all you’ll have. I wish somebody had told me to never give up your dream just because someone else is better than you – work harder to ensure that when you come face to face with that person, they’ll have to work hard to beat you.

The truth is that only you and you alone can create your future. A life without a little risk taking is a rather boring life. Take risks, do what you know in your heart is what you truly want, whether that’s love, work, school, etc. In the end you’ll not only thank yourself, but the people around you who wouldn’t let you give up.

When you draw a timeline, it looks pathetic. Because the majority of my life, when marked off on a timeline, has been devoted to being what every feminist is afraid of becoming. What Sarah Haskins coins, “The Perfect Woman.”

I wore lots of makeup. It caked on my face. Lining, defining, plucking, bringing out my “best features” and playing down the “less desirable ones.” But we didn’t like to talk about those.

I never stopped to think about why shampoo had so many vitamins when hair was made up of dead skin cells. Dead cells can’t absorb vitamins! Their membranes aren’t active! But ha, who needed a brain when you were pretty, right? Everything I did was a lame attempt at getting guys to like me, even if I wasn’t conscious of it. The idea of being able to attract all men, even the lame ones, was so ingrained.

My mother was the epitome of the middle-aged feminist. She gently pushed to help me make the right decisions. But I didn’t listen to her because she wasn’t like me – she was old and wrinkly and had bad hair and too much cellulite. Or so I believed…

And then it dawned on me.
My mother is a beautiful woman.

A few months ago, I read The Beauty Myth. And I cried. Because what I was living wasn’t rewarding in the least.
And then I realized that the friends I considered beautiful were also the most fucked up. They have perfect body and facial preportions, but they aren’t happy. Tons of men like them, but they’re either empty men or nice men who are projecting. I haven’t seen any “true love.” This brief period of time has been more rewarding and meaningful than all the other years combined. It was spent doing things for me, listening and loving and laughing only when I wanted to. And letting my bitch-flag fly when I felt like it.

And now, as I look back on this period of time, the only thing that has been missing are my girls. The girls in my life are all too centered on their hair or their boobs or their boyfriends to really enjoy what surrounds them.

So this is an attempt, a ranty one, but a hopefully worthwhile one, at having everyone share their stories. Community empowers women. Let’s allow that to thrive.

Okay, take a deep breath. This post is not about my feelings for Miley Cyrus. I will comment on neither her talent nor her personal life. What I’m going to comment on is the generation that worships at her billion dollar feet.

Interesting personal tidbit: Because I like buying things, I have an after school job. I happen to work at an after school / day care center through the local JCC for kids in the 6th grade and under. I happen to really like this job as my co-workers are all great and the kids generally keep me laughing for most of the time I’m there. Even after the worst day at school, it’s quite therapeutic to have a first grader sit on your lap, braid your hair and just generally be awed by your advanced teenage years. 

The downside, as I’ve recently found: what this generation of girls is turning into.

I had a chat with one of my favorite first graders the other day, while I drew her a picture of a rainbow and two girls (us, I guess) skipping under it. In the abrupt way that 7 year olds have learned to master, she leans towards me and whispers, “[Insert little boy's name here] and I are in love!” 

I sit there for a minute. Is that too inappropriate? She raises her eyebrows. Waaaaaiting. 

“Oh…okay. How did you guys meet?” I venture. 

“We take piano from the same teacher! It was love at first sight!” 

Okay. So I’m not totally surprised. I mean what are Disney movies but hour and a half pieces of propaganda promoting the idea of “falling in love.” Not to mention gross masculinity standards and the occasional racism. 

“Aren’t you a little young?” I ask. “Miley Cyrus has a boyfriend in real life,” she counters. (See, you were wondering how Miley fit in. There it is). 

“Okay, but Miley is 16. You are 6,” I remind her. ”He’s in love with my best friend too. But he says he likes us both the same so it’s okay,” she decides to share. Casually.

Say what? “Say what?” I ask. She’s still smiling. “He’s in love with both of you?” I ask. “And you’re okay with that?” 

“Yes,” she answers, seemingly confused by my confusion. “He loves me just like he loves her.”

I’m trying to figure out if a first grader is really so desperate for a boyfriend that she’s willing to share him with another woman…girl…little kid. 

“You are a strong and independent woman,” I tell her. “You do not need a man to complete you and under no circumstances should you have to share that man with someone else. Equality is where it’s at. Respect yourself.”

“My mom thinks it’s a good thing.”

WHAT??? “WHAT?” 

“My mom gave me a big hug when i told her.”

AHHHHHHHHH WHAAAAAAAAAT? If I had a six year old daughter who was completely preoccupied with falling in love, I would be seriously disturbed, not rewarding her. But then again, it explains why this little girl is always running after the little boy asking “Do you love me more than you did yesterday? Who do you like better, me or [insert little girl's name here]?” She’s obsessed with making sure that she has attention, that somebody loves her.

Is it from Miley Cyrus and the disney tweens? Eh, probably not. I can’t actually blame her for the corruption of the youth just for having a boyfriend at 16 (especially since I’m pretty sure my 6 year old friend isn’t aware of their age difference so that didn’t do anything). Is this from home? Um, apparently.

I guess that’s really my question and the point to this story. Where does stuff like this COME from? She’s just so young…how do these sad ideas get into these little girls’ heads? When do girls stop being girls and start realizing what our society wants them to be? HOW CAN WE STOP IT?