A few years ago, I wrote this. Thought you might like to read it. There are a lot of things that I would change, wording wise, but this is the way that I wrote it and this is how it will stay.
My mother was an artist at heart. She loved music, reading, writing, painting, sewing, and creating in general. It breaks my heart to think of the lost potential. She was so discouraged. She believed that she did not and could not amount to anything. She did not even dare to have dreams. Her true self was so oppressed that there didn’t seem to be any musings of thoughts like, “If I could be anything, I would be…”. I remember that she used to tell me that when she was a child she dreamed of being a fashion designer in New York City. For anyone who knew my mother, this would probably come as a shock. Her pants were always too short… very much like her life. She’d wear these terrible looking white socks and you could always see them, you know, due to the really short pants. I used to make such fun of her. Somehow I felt that once in a while I would catch a glimpse of that small child who longed to create something beautiful, who longed to live in fancy high rise and have her name in snooty magazines. That girl was in there all along shrieking “Let me out!!”
I am so fortunate that I realized my authentic self before it was too late. Every time I write something, I do it for myself but I also do it for her too. I now know that we are all creators and the only limitations on the ways in which we use our artistic qualities are the ones that we put upon ourselves. We make a conscious decision about whether or not we are going to live authentically and artistically. It’s not up to anyone else. Sure, there may be people in our lives telling us that we can’t, or better yet that we won’t, but that is their problem, not ours. It is never too late. As I enter my 30’s, I know that I can create my own experience on this crazy planet we call earth. So, here I am. Creating performance art out of my own experience. I hope you can learn from what I have to say, just as I learned from experiencing and writing about it. And, I hope you go home and write that short story, take that painting or ballet class, go out and sing karaoke, or just simply tell your spouse, or better yet yourself, the truth about who you are. Because you deserve it. The universe deserves it. And your mama would be very proud.
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