For some INSANE reason I believe subconsciously to the core of my being I should be on stage. Acting, singing, whatever- it’s just this core self thought that won’t go away. I can’t tell you how many times I have bombed an audition.
I cannot tell you how many times some one has loudly said, “Uh THANK YOU. NEXT!”
I cannot express to you the hurt I felt when someone professional, who I was close with, told me I was “too big and too tall” to get a lead role, no matter what I learned vocally. I would ALWAYS be cast as the old woman, or the domineering strong female background character.
Oh the giggles and taunts. People waiting outside my practice room telling me to hurry up, real singers want the room.
Oh yes, yes, it all resides in the brain. The memories.
I have horrible, jarring stage fright. Once again, it goes back to not being good enough.
Did you know some one put into my child mind, that I do not deserve to go to Heaven when I die? I have possibly the worst fights with myself over my self worth.
That little girl my parents largely ignored, that my mother smacked around, that my father was to tired to notice, that little girl that was preyed upon by that child predator- she still resides in my mind.
I have this dream where there is little me in in a filthy room alone, torn up and crying. I clean, and clean, and mend her clothes, I feed her and hold her as she just stares ahead and weeps. She never changes.
Poor thing. I can’t go back and fix all that for myself. I can’t put another complexion on it. There isn’t a way. She isn’t me anymore though, and though I now know what to do, as I said I can’t go back. It doesn’t do to dwell on dreams Harry.
There is though a life time of me working towards better. Better for me (and better for CDubs.). One way is to realize while I am not moving my behind to California, in hopes of my big break 20 years too late; I can take steps to shake up my world a little.
I have to keep trying. Even if my voice completely gives out in fear. Even if I shake to pieces and forget to breathe while I sing (that happens to people, don’t scoff).
Even if I dress to the nines and everyone expects the music teacher to be amazing and…. She’s not.
Even if I end up on Youtube as Watch the Worst Pageant Singer In The World! Click Here!
I’m going to try.
I forgot that today, when after school, I went through the song quickly and bombed. I beat my self up too. Went home and practiced more. Screwed up more.
Gave up and ate dinner and my husband said “I told you that song is too hard to learn right now. You need something easier.”
Which he didn’t, and he says this to me, the day after I emailed my song selection to the coordinator- so it’s too late.
I got so mad. He does stuff like that. Then he tells me I need to go practice more, which is true. So I break up the song. Sing with the recorded singer, switch to the instrument only track- switch back to the singer- and so forth.
I realized tonight being pissed makes you sing better. Meowing cats don’t. I guess Evie wanted to help. I also remembered my voice teacher saying vocalists have to enunciate and move their face a lot to be heard correctly and to sometimes mimic style. So I was very expressively singing to the cupboards in the kitchen. (Furthest point from CDubs’s bed room)
My throat hurts a little but, husband made me two glasses of mint tea (mint leaves steeped in water). I am feeling better now, and my confidence is up a bit.
A bit. Practice reveals the truth, I’ve got a ways to go by Saturday- and I’d really like to imagine myself singing in front of everyone and do a YouTube so you can tell me what you think.
Not to mention, I have 2 formal gowns (I hope) that I want to run by you all. (For the formal wear walk)
So much to do but as Mrs. Z said:
“A lot of people are to afraid to do this.”
I am doing my best to not be one of them!
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