The Bird Who Lost Her Song

e0ca6a65e36ad5becc2b49f44ddac01bEvery point of growing up I had a playlist of songs that were perfect for the moments I was going through. “Sunshine and Summertime” when my friend’s and I would drive to Zuma Beach in my ’88 Mustang.  We all felt young and skinny like anything could happen with our hair down and blowing in the wind.  We could literally go anywhere in that moment. We were so free.

“You and Tequila” when I started talking to my boyfriend (now my husband).  I would get lost in Kenny Chesney’s voice and dream about marrying the cutest man I had ever met.  I even listened to it when it felt like he was breaking my heart.  I am sure music is medicine, sometimes you have to listen and cry it out to get through rough times.

“Are you Gunna Kiss me or not” when he finally asked me out and didn’t kiss me before my hour and a half ride home alone.  I still get butterflies every time I hear this song.

“Hey Pretty Girl” when we were engaged after he asked me to marry him and I was imagining our lives together.  Then “ I Do Cherish You” When we were getting married. I would cry just picturing us dancing to this song for our first dance, it felt like that day would never come…

I have not felt the magic in such a long time.  Maybe it is my outlook on life.  I think I just got married and became so busy with responsibility that I lost that free part of me.  Everything became so serious and I became entangled in it so much that I forgot to stop and ask myself “What makes you happy?” “Where did your smile go?”  I am going to be a mommy and I am so excited, but I am scared that if I don’t find my song soon I will lose it forever.

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I hope you dance

09aa9f7e959dda4199c5ab98df3f2d3eGrowing up I was not popular by any means… I was madly in love with a boy at my church who was way too old for me and way out of my league.  Looking back he was surprisingly kind considering I stalked him for most of my childhood.  I wore the most ridiculous outfits. Never said the right thing.  I was oily and overweight. To top it all off after youth group, when everyone was standing outside waiting for their parents, I would pretend like I was a ballerina and dance like a little fool where everyone could see me.  I still cringe.  Anyway, there was this girl that was so cool and pretty. She was a year older than me and all the guys liked her, everyone liked her, even the guy I liked.  I tried not to be jealous but she had everything, the perfect clothes, the perfect singing voice, she was trying to be an actress.  And I was frumpy.  My jealousy showed some ugly colors at times.  Over the years I just existed trying to fit in where I could but I did not have a lot of friends. Then I finally made a really good friend and we learned how to do our makeup and hair and we morphed out of our awkward stages.  Even though outwardly I have changed I still feel cripplingly inferior to people who are cool and beautiful.  Especially this girl.  It’s like my fat dorky mini-me resurfaces the second someone has nice hair and a glow of perfection.

The other night I saw her for the first time in probably 5 years. I spent a lot of time on my makeup and hair before I went over to her house. When I walked in to the party I felt pretty.  She still looks amazing like a classic model, graceful and glamorous.   I couldn’t help but notice that she also looked a little sad and empty.  She greeted me politely then said that I “beat her to the Altar.” I thought that was a strange comment.  She did her best to avoid me but at one point she very briefly brought up her ex-boyfriend then changed the subject.  Despite the fact that she is beautiful, she has only had one serious boyfriend that I know of.  They looked like the perfect couple, I think he was a model.  I think he really broke her heart.  Throughout the night she said I beat her to the altar a few more times.  She smoked a few cigarettes and I thought I almost saw her cringe when she first grabbed the pack that happened to be in front of me.  Almost like saying. “I’m doing this and I don’t care what you think.”  This triggered something in me to prove that I was not a prude.  So I grabbed a beer and had some sort of mixed drink in my hand for the rest of the night.  I looked around at the people at the party, they were all beautiful models, actors and singers.  They were honestly very nice as well, but when I saw her interact with them I felt sad for her.  She plays the part perfectly.  She’s cool and smooth but every reaction was thought out.  I got a little tipsy at the end of the night but I kept my composure.  We were all hanging out in the garage, a few people were smoking. At one point I asked to smoke a puff of someone’s cigarette.  When I replayed last night in my head this morning I was so disgusted with myself.  In the past I have smoked when I have had a few drinks… both of which I am quitting.  The part that made me so angry with myself is that I didn’t smoke that cigarette because I wanted it… I smoked it because I wanted her to see.

I do not know when or why I gave her that much control.  I am not that person. I have no desire to be cool or popular.  I am completely content with my life and my friends.  My husband is the most unbelievable person I know and when I screw up, he’s the only one who has always been there to pick up the pieces.  Last night made me realize how blessed I am to have him in my life.  I cringe that I used to dance in the parking lot and kept a picture of my crush above my bed. (I told you I was creepy.) But I never hid myself to impress other people.  If people did or didn’t like me, they didn’t like the real awkward klutzy me. And I am ok with that.