LJ Idol Week One: "Prism Life"
As a child, solutions seem very simple. Always taller and (shall I say) curvier than my peers, there was probably no nine year old girl that looked less like a ballerina than me. But that, of course, was my ambition: to dance, to glide like the most delicate butterfly.
To become a ballerina, I would need lessons and shoes, but I decided the first logical step would be to put "musical ballerina jewelry box" as number 3 on my Christmas list. As one of seven kids, the number 1 wish was always my own room (not achieved until age 16), and number 2 was always a dog (not achieved until age 12.) At nine years old, I knew both of my top wishes were unlikely to come true, but perhaps the jewelry box was a possibility.
Christmas morning, I opened my gift and there it was! I wound the key. As the plastic ballerina twirled, I heard the tune, "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." That tune became my special treat, the soundtrack of my dancing dreams.
As I reflect on my childhood, it seems the rainbow dream I chased for decades was my parents' approving love. For decades, I checked their eyes for glimmers. Were their eyes glowing? Maybe it's rainbow time! I'd dance or achieve a grade, get married or have a baby convinced that this time, somehow, would be my stained glass moment. This time I'd be the one soaking up my parents' approving love. Surely there had to be a way to earn it!
I've never quite gotten it right. Like well... ever. I always was the awkward ballerina with the low ACT score. I didn't achieve the natural childbirth, or get the successful career (yet?) It's taken me decades to see that some clouds only produce black rainbows, no matter the weather, the barometric pressure, or the increasing desperation of an all-too-human daughter.
Ironically, I finally reclaimed "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" as a joyful anthem in 2019 when my cousins sang it at my second wedding. With our combined joy, I'm trying to project a new family rainbow for our kids, with red for love, orange for fun, yellow for warmth, green for growth, blue for peace, and violet for grace. Violet stands for grace because what could be more majestic than acceptance even after mistakes?
I don't think I'll ever find the somewhere that contains the rainbow of my parents' approving love, but I refuse to live a life of darkness anymore. My goal is that our rainbow will shine so bright that our kids feel they live in a sunny prism, with colors dashing about everywhere like fairy ballerinas. I don't approve of all of my kids' choices, but I don't want them to live gasping for the oxygen of my approval. I feel my main role as a parent is to embrace my kids in any way that shows them they are always, always worthy of love.
I would never pretend my life is all bluebirds and roses. It's chaotic, choppy, and hectic, but the clouds never fully extinguish little glimpses of colorful love.
To become a ballerina, I would need lessons and shoes, but I decided the first logical step would be to put "musical ballerina jewelry box" as number 3 on my Christmas list. As one of seven kids, the number 1 wish was always my own room (not achieved until age 16), and number 2 was always a dog (not achieved until age 12.) At nine years old, I knew both of my top wishes were unlikely to come true, but perhaps the jewelry box was a possibility.
Christmas morning, I opened my gift and there it was! I wound the key. As the plastic ballerina twirled, I heard the tune, "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." That tune became my special treat, the soundtrack of my dancing dreams.
As I reflect on my childhood, it seems the rainbow dream I chased for decades was my parents' approving love. For decades, I checked their eyes for glimmers. Were their eyes glowing? Maybe it's rainbow time! I'd dance or achieve a grade, get married or have a baby convinced that this time, somehow, would be my stained glass moment. This time I'd be the one soaking up my parents' approving love. Surely there had to be a way to earn it!
I've never quite gotten it right. Like well... ever. I always was the awkward ballerina with the low ACT score. I didn't achieve the natural childbirth, or get the successful career (yet?) It's taken me decades to see that some clouds only produce black rainbows, no matter the weather, the barometric pressure, or the increasing desperation of an all-too-human daughter.
Ironically, I finally reclaimed "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" as a joyful anthem in 2019 when my cousins sang it at my second wedding. With our combined joy, I'm trying to project a new family rainbow for our kids, with red for love, orange for fun, yellow for warmth, green for growth, blue for peace, and violet for grace. Violet stands for grace because what could be more majestic than acceptance even after mistakes?
I don't think I'll ever find the somewhere that contains the rainbow of my parents' approving love, but I refuse to live a life of darkness anymore. My goal is that our rainbow will shine so bright that our kids feel they live in a sunny prism, with colors dashing about everywhere like fairy ballerinas. I don't approve of all of my kids' choices, but I don't want them to live gasping for the oxygen of my approval. I feel my main role as a parent is to embrace my kids in any way that shows them they are always, always worthy of love.
I would never pretend my life is all bluebirds and roses. It's chaotic, choppy, and hectic, but the clouds never fully extinguish little glimpses of colorful love.