Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the most self-critical of them all? Me, me, me!!!
Recently I was asked if I would emcee a local event. What may be a frightening role to many, lands me well within my comfort zone. I really shine in this capacity, thank you to my high school teacher and acting coach Mr. Bashara. I have deeper fears than public speaking but that is whole nuther ball of wax!
Besides, this was an opportunity to dress up and talk to people– two of my favorite activities. My dance group was asked to perform a salsa number at the same event and it was my first time dancing with the team. I may have “Broadway in my blood” but a sparkle bra and choreography tends to knock me a few feet outside of my comfort zone! Oddly I am perfectly comfortable in a solo but group choreography is where the rubber hits the road. Turn the wrong way and everyone knows!
Now if you are going to dance in front of people, I highly recommend wearing a sparkle bra! I felt like my bra gave me “super powers”, which unfortunately did not translate to my feet but did help fuel my DD’s; my Diva-tude Demeanor”! This was part of our costume – to be worn under a sheer blouse. Ok, I admit that it was my idea to make it part of the costume! Go big or go home.
I have always loved acting and perhaps this is one of the reasons I can sell myself. Whoa people– not in the literal sense! I am strictly speaking in metaphors!! I appear super confident and charming and on the outside with Teflon coated nerves. WTF, I just realized I could be describing myself AND a sociopath! Rest assured I am not a sociopath. I care far too much for myself, I mean others, to be labeled this way.
My acting skills allowed me to play the part of a happy person for years. Even my closest friends had no idea that I was struggling with depression. Had they opened my chest, (again, metaphorically as my friends are not creepy like that!) they would have seen my broken heart covered with deep wounds and necrotic tissue. Today those scars have healed and they take up far less space than they did ten years ago. The necrosis has reversed and my heart shines with resilience. What may surprise you are the tiny tender bruises of new injuries; those that I inflict upon myself every time I believe what critical voice has to say.
Yes, my friends. Words are weapons, especially when they originate from your inner critic. So less than twelve hours after a spectacular success, I looked at my photos and felt run over by negative imagery. I laser focused toward the part of me I hate the most, my belly and thought, “You look like you are about to birth twenty two kittens. Who in the hell let me go out there without any Spanx????”
My Girlfriend Voice was silent. I knew that this silence was purposeful and my opportunity to listen to the wisdom of my higher self (not to be confused with my “high self” as that too is a whole nuther ball of wax). My lesson? STOP the nonsense. LET GO of these silly thoughts. Do NOT ask for any photos to be deleted. I am letting go and going a step further by publishing the photo on this blog.
Tonight I am going to wear my sparkle bra and maybe nothing else while I sing, “You’ve got to accen-tu-ate the positive, elim-i-nate the negative, latch on to the affirm-a-tive, and don’t mess with Mr. In-between!”
Good advice, huh? I am going to count my belly among my blessings for I am healthy, I have loved many a cookie/cake/chocolate, I have birthed two baby boys (no kittens) and I am not the skinny bitch you hate at the gym. While I cannot twerk my backside, I can twerk my tummy. Who could want more??
From the heart,