Talents, stage fright, and performance anxiety…

Last night I had the opportunity to go out on a “date” with my teenage daughter we don’t normally get the opportunity to do that. Life gets in the way and with a toddler at home it’s hard to sneak away “alone” time to dedicate to our oldest, who quite frankly really needs it. I think when there is a little one at home we focus so much of our “quality” time on them due to their inherent demands that we neglect the older children with the mindset that they can emotionally support themselves. As a parent I can try and justify that and as a therapist I’m like absolute bullshit, so finding a balance is critically important.

We went out for sushi last night and it was nice to sit with her and listen to her share about her friends and school and her plans for extra curriculars for next year. So many times, I have gotten annoyed with her stories and have found a way to provide a “lesson” or to offer unsolicited advice and I wasn’t really listening to her. In fact, I was completely ignoring her need. So many of my interactions are so anxiety ridden. I am so fearful of my daughter struggling that I immediately go into a head space that doesn’t allow her to freely and openly share. Truly I’d imagine it feels stifling for her… sigh. I am working really hard in all of my relationships to “hear” the other person. To navigate the land of not being afraid they will “leave me” and engage from a place of security rather than loss. It’s a hard shift for an anxious/avoidant personality, so it requires a lot of intentionality.

After we left the restaurant, I put on some lively music, Lady Gaga and we were on our way. My musical choices often reflect my mood, and I was feeling energized and full of life and most importantly I was relaxed. I highlight being relaxed because that is not reflective of my homeostasis. Those closest to me would likely describe me as high strung. I’d have to agree. As we were driving along, listening to the music I was singing and car dancing, and laughing. She was relaxed and engaged, and she was able to see her mother from a perspective she hasn’t really had the opportunity to see. I wonder how that felt for her. If she felt comfortable? If she felt relieved to know that under the extremely tough exterior, that I have room to be playful and childlike with HER. She has spent the last almost 4 years being a spectator to my playfulness with her sister and I imagine that has been painful to her, to not have had that opportunity with me. To feel like I didn’t room in my heart for her. A lot to sit in.

I woke up this morning eager to get my thoughts out. Music has always been an escape for me. It has provided me therapy, entertainment, but above all else release. From as long as I can remember music was an integral part of my life. But the moment that I really recall music becoming a life force was at the age of 10. In May of 1990, I had the opportunity to learn of a musician that had just hit the music industry. Her name was Mariah Carey, the album was Vision of Love, and the day that I got that album my passion for music grew and it became my coping mechanism. I listened to that album daily. I sang to it, I memorized it, I learned her voice, and I became a “basement singer”. I sang in our basement every day, for hours at times. I would put on “the divas” Mariah, Celine, Whitney, and I would sing my heart out. I was so passionate and committed to my singing. I knew/know every word to every song. I was able to mimic their voices and I loved it. Singing was my release the opportunity to be me in a way that I didn’t have the ability to in any of my other daily routines. I had a talent that if fostered could have had the potential to send my life in a completely different direction. The truth is, I don’t know how effective I would have been if I had launched a career in music, I had/have the absolute worst stage fright. I literally would get in a complete panic anytime that I had to perform, I mean debilitatingly so. No matter how many times, I had the opportunity to be in a school play, have a lead role, or participate in a talent show, I was petrified of being judged, of making a mistake, or making a fool of myself. Never confident, ever fearful.

I took voice lessons from Peter Elkus, he was the father of one of my classmates, and the husband of a world-famous Opera singer, Frederica von Stade. I recall learning so much and slowly but surely developing confidence and becoming fully aware of my talent and potential and one day that was taken away and the voice lessons stopped, and I was back to being a “basement singer” never to perform again. When my uncle died, I gave up singing for good. I say I went into retirement, but I lost all motivation, my passion for singing was lost. He was my second attachment fracture, and as uncontrollable as his death was, he “left” me in the midst of coming to terms with my sexual identity, and he was the only one who truly understood me and who accepted me, and loved me unconditionally at the time, and so with him went my voice.

I sang in the car with my daughter last night. I was not afraid for her to hear me, fearful she would judge me, I was myself, I felt free and alive. I allowed myself to be playful with her, with myself. I plan on spending the rest of my life, however long it is, living playfully. I encourage anyone reading this to do the same. Our kids need to see that side of us. They need to know that what they have to look forward to isn’t all about responsibility but about having fun and channeling their inner child no matter how old they get or how complicated life gets.