Sunday, May 12, 2013

She aint heavy, she's my mother

If you want to tie up all my neuroses, struggles, issues, and pathos into one tassel, it's probably my mother. I am sure most women feel the something like this to varying degrees. A lot of the things I do, I do for my mom, just as there are things I don't do, because of my mom.

(When I initially posted, I forgot to note that my mother died when I was 21 years old. She had multiple myeloma, which is not a kind cancer like mine, and because I was young and somewhat immature, things were not said before it was too late.)

For example: Belly dancing is for my mom. Actually, probably all dancing is for my mother. She was a very private, hidden-in-her body person. I feel her body-horror like a wall of flames, and walk through it. My childhood obsession with ballerinas she could not feed into. You're not built like a ballerina, she told me (although she denied that she meant I was too heavy). And she was right, I am not built like a ballerina.

Which is why it felt so rebellious 4 years ago to sign up for a belly dance class. And that class was fun! Grown women, risking ridicule (for trying something new) and shame (of not being good enough) but earning sparkles and grace instead, dancing together. As I continued with Joette at the West Michigan School of Middle Eastern Dance, group performance opportunities became available. What would Mom think? Oh well, here goes!

I dance because Mom could not, did not, but would have loved seeing me do it. Oh sure, she would have fretted about whether it was proper, or if it would damage my professional prospects, or if good girls use spray glitter. But I think she would have been thrilled to see me conquer fears she could not.

I've been a mess all day because it's Mother's Day. Lots of feeling sorry for myself, moping, posted a pathetic status update, went to the mall and the grocery store for some "retail therapy". I suppose it worked because what I eventually came to realize is that I don't have to do things to shock or impress my mother any more. I can do it for myself. And so I must.

P.S. Mom, that means I can also get a tattoo (something I don't do because of my mom). I don't have any ideas right now, but remember it doesn't mean that I don't love you. 

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