I have always prided myself in being independent. I struggled with the desire to do things myself and people's desire to "help" I'm still not sure that "independent" is an accurate term. What does that mean? I can do things on my own, by myself and alone. The underlying connotation is alone.
The hard part is that you must learn the difference. There is always a desire to be independent, but you cannot merge that into alone.
I watched 127 hours last night, and saw what happens when the two become one. Now, I'm not implying that we will all end up cutting off our arm in a Canyon, but the possibilities are endless when you find yourself alone.
I've let my own independence leave me alone. I've had blow out fights with my mom, over things I knew I could do. She never challenged, but there were times that I felt she was. My philosophy was always: just do it. I am the person who jumps in head first, believing it will all work out. I remember: not taking my mom's phone calls because I didn't want to "check in" at 20 years old. I told her repeatedly, LEAVE ME ALONE!" "I'll be fine without you!" Sadly, I am without her. I am ALONE. I don't feel any more independent without her. So why did I spend all those years requesting to be "alone"- because "alone" felt more like "on my own."
That's the place that lonely is born. When you can't reconcile, the two with grace: you find yourself lonely. You've pushed away the many people in pursuit of independence. Whether, it personal, independence, physical independence or romantic independence, if not pursued correctly, all, can lead you to lonely!
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Pursuit of the Poofy dress ...
Every one of us is given those special rites of passage: the things we wait patiently for, and are so excited when they arrive. Whether it's the upward movement of Cub Scouts to Boy Scouts, of the difference between a Junior and Senior Varsity Cheerleader. Meaningless changes that at the time seem to be everything. We've all had them and saw them as some huge moment in time to redefine (or define) ourselves.
I went out for drinks ,with a girlfriend the other night. On both sides of the bar you could see people at different stages of their lives. To my left there were the young, fun and rambunctious group: a gaggle of young 20-somethings (and a kid who looked as if, earlier that morning, he poured out a box of Fruity Pebbles to uncover the prize!) It was a perfectly depicted picture, of " date night" here on long Island! LOL Then to the right sat a rather refined group of women (and one guy hitting on them all.) They were in their mid-forties, and appeared to be enjoying a glass of White Wine.
So there I was, in the middle, with my Margarita - Not quite the beer-churgers of the group to my left, nor really ready to concede that happy hour meant a glass of White Wine. (Not just yet!) I was talking about where I fit in, with my friend. We both discovered that: we were supposed to be married by now! Duh that's a no-brainer! I always said I'd be married by 23 and have kids by 25, but to hear that someone else had the same plan- Woo Hoo! I was not out of my mind! So that got me thinking: WE ARE ALWAYS CHASING A POOFY DRESS!
As a little girl, I watched my sister take dance lessons (she only took them for .2 seconds, but stay with me people!- It had impact!) I wanted a Tutu! OK five year old in a wheelchair - wasn't going to be dancing Swan Lake anytime soon! So I got a Wand! ( Luckily Ashly outgrew the Tutu fast!) My jealously lasted as long as her dance career! (And between you and me she feel asleep, on stage during her first recital!- so that career was over long before it started!) So I lost out on Poofy dress #1
Poofy dress was a bigger problem. That good ole Sweet Sixteen! I was excited for this one! This one I knew was mine. After all nothing could change my age! Invitations went out, favors were purchased, DJ selected, dress shopping here I come! But once again the Poofy dress eluded me! The month before my party, may parents could not afford the final payment. It was not in our budget. No matter how hard mom crunched the numbers, we really couldn't afford it. I had to call every person on my guest list to say my party was canceled. In the town I grew up in, you didn't dare say that you couldn't afford something. I had an elaborate lie about a double booked venue, and my date had to be changed. I'm not sure anyone believed that, but hey - it's all I had at 16!
Junior prom was up next. This time I had the poofy dress. Being a "Little Person" you can't walk into JC Penny and buy formal gown off the rack. My mom made my dress. It was a beautiful lilac dress with a shimmery Chiffon overlay, and rhinestone straps. I even found kids shoes that I dyed to match. For reasons that I'm still not clear on: I got stood up. Dress ready, hair done, and no date. He bailed last minute! So I spent prom night looking great (as great as a nerdy girl, stood up for her Junior prom could look!) watching "Mission Impossible." (If only Tom Cruise could have seen me!) I didn't even attempt Senior Prom!
I have a closet full of fitted, "sexy" dresses! Many of those I've only worn once, and normally to wedding. I've come to terms with the fact that "poofy dresses" are not for me! After all, being 4' tall, I look like a CUPCAKE when I have on poofy dress! :)
Now the last Poofy dress I am not willing to give up on! There is no way I'll be trading in my final shot a poofy dress for a box of Kitty Litter. (I don't like cats so if I become the "crazy- cat -lady please shoot me!)
I say this all light-heartedly to say it is JUST A POOFY DRESS!! It's not a rite of passage as we all think they are. We feel obligated to have them and give them. Yet, we are no more or less fulfilled because we went to Prom or had a rockin' Sweet 16. Pursue the important stuff. Life's biggest accomplishments wont include a dress you'll never look at, or put on again! And probably wont look as good as you thought it did, when you look at the pictures!
I went out for drinks ,with a girlfriend the other night. On both sides of the bar you could see people at different stages of their lives. To my left there were the young, fun and rambunctious group: a gaggle of young 20-somethings (and a kid who looked as if, earlier that morning, he poured out a box of Fruity Pebbles to uncover the prize!) It was a perfectly depicted picture, of " date night" here on long Island! LOL Then to the right sat a rather refined group of women (and one guy hitting on them all.) They were in their mid-forties, and appeared to be enjoying a glass of White Wine.
So there I was, in the middle, with my Margarita - Not quite the beer-churgers of the group to my left, nor really ready to concede that happy hour meant a glass of White Wine. (Not just yet!) I was talking about where I fit in, with my friend. We both discovered that: we were supposed to be married by now! Duh that's a no-brainer! I always said I'd be married by 23 and have kids by 25, but to hear that someone else had the same plan- Woo Hoo! I was not out of my mind! So that got me thinking: WE ARE ALWAYS CHASING A POOFY DRESS!
As a little girl, I watched my sister take dance lessons (she only took them for .2 seconds, but stay with me people!- It had impact!) I wanted a Tutu! OK five year old in a wheelchair - wasn't going to be dancing Swan Lake anytime soon! So I got a Wand! ( Luckily Ashly outgrew the Tutu fast!) My jealously lasted as long as her dance career! (And between you and me she feel asleep, on stage during her first recital!- so that career was over long before it started!) So I lost out on Poofy dress #1
Poofy dress was a bigger problem. That good ole Sweet Sixteen! I was excited for this one! This one I knew was mine. After all nothing could change my age! Invitations went out, favors were purchased, DJ selected, dress shopping here I come! But once again the Poofy dress eluded me! The month before my party, may parents could not afford the final payment. It was not in our budget. No matter how hard mom crunched the numbers, we really couldn't afford it. I had to call every person on my guest list to say my party was canceled. In the town I grew up in, you didn't dare say that you couldn't afford something. I had an elaborate lie about a double booked venue, and my date had to be changed. I'm not sure anyone believed that, but hey - it's all I had at 16!
Junior prom was up next. This time I had the poofy dress. Being a "Little Person" you can't walk into JC Penny and buy formal gown off the rack. My mom made my dress. It was a beautiful lilac dress with a shimmery Chiffon overlay, and rhinestone straps. I even found kids shoes that I dyed to match. For reasons that I'm still not clear on: I got stood up. Dress ready, hair done, and no date. He bailed last minute! So I spent prom night looking great (as great as a nerdy girl, stood up for her Junior prom could look!) watching "Mission Impossible." (If only Tom Cruise could have seen me!) I didn't even attempt Senior Prom!
I have a closet full of fitted, "sexy" dresses! Many of those I've only worn once, and normally to wedding. I've come to terms with the fact that "poofy dresses" are not for me! After all, being 4' tall, I look like a CUPCAKE when I have on poofy dress! :)
Now the last Poofy dress I am not willing to give up on! There is no way I'll be trading in my final shot a poofy dress for a box of Kitty Litter. (I don't like cats so if I become the "crazy- cat -lady please shoot me!)
I say this all light-heartedly to say it is JUST A POOFY DRESS!! It's not a rite of passage as we all think they are. We feel obligated to have them and give them. Yet, we are no more or less fulfilled because we went to Prom or had a rockin' Sweet 16. Pursue the important stuff. Life's biggest accomplishments wont include a dress you'll never look at, or put on again! And probably wont look as good as you thought it did, when you look at the pictures!
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Always sing your "SWAN" song!!
In theatre we all hope to not be type cast. To get stuck in one kind of role over and over is death to a CREATIVE career. I was always typed as the "troll" or some other weird forest creature. That was part of my dissatisfaction with my acting career. I knew someone who was always cast as the mom and housewife. I've seen the "fool" and the "leading man" walk right past. I have sat on the other of the directors table. I've heard "He's too short," She's too big, " "He looks too gay," "She'd be perfect if she'd dye her hair." He wont be believable s such and such a character." I never understood that one. The actor becomes the character- not the other way around. After we got all that "typing" out of the way we moved on to substance. "his voice was amazing, and that song suits him." She delivered that monologue with such passion" or "They have great chemistry." I know which had the larger impact on casting. I've seen it ... I've done it. I've seen people be who could not act at all, cast because they were tall enough, pretty enough, and sometime just because they were easy to work with
Disclaimer: To my Five Towns peeps I am not implying that any of these statements were specifically made about ANY of you. There were shows before, and after you.
Here's where it gets tricky: Actors get used to this. We learn to know our "type" and embrace playing those roles. Even when deep down we want to be the ingenue. OK so we don't always embrace it. (insert sarcastic tone here.) but we desperately want to be on stage. Sometimes we humiliate ourselves, in fear that we wont get cast, again, if we turn down roles or refuse to take direction we find degrading. We find comfort in our fellow cast members who share similar feelings. And than there are those who live by "at least I'm not in the chorus!) Or as Jack called it 3rd tree from the left.
But then there are PEOPLE- Every day people, who have never stepped foot on a stage. They get typed, more often than not. Every one knows the "dumb girl," "the fat kid" "the slacker," "the snot," "the bully," the jock," "the kid we feel certain is gay (and sometimes is or is not!" "the shy kid," "the geek," "the theatre nerd" (that was me)
Who are you? Don't be any of the above. Unlike theatre, where a director determines what role you play, you have the opportunity to play all those and more. So what you're the "theatre geek?" Does that mean you can't be popular? Because you're "shy" does it mean that you're not smart? Because you're African American, does that mean you're "poor?" How about the "gay kid?" Does that mean you can't open, and still be successful? NO!
Play whatever role you want to play. Don't force the worlds type casting upon yourself. I'm guilty: I've been the "little person" meant to be alone, unsuccessful and uneducated. I accepted that type for a long time. It took years before I decided that role wasn't for me! I turned it down. I know what roles are for me, and which are not. Unlike my performing days: I can look the world in the face and say "SHOVE IT!" I won't be her, I won't even look at the script and consider it. This is my life, and I wont type cast myself.
So no matter who, or where you are reject "types," and cast yourself as who you want to be. And no matter what find a time, a moment, and a place to sing your SWAN SONG!
Disclaimer: To my Five Towns peeps I am not implying that any of these statements were specifically made about ANY of you. There were shows before, and after you.
Here's where it gets tricky: Actors get used to this. We learn to know our "type" and embrace playing those roles. Even when deep down we want to be the ingenue. OK so we don't always embrace it. (insert sarcastic tone here.) but we desperately want to be on stage. Sometimes we humiliate ourselves, in fear that we wont get cast, again, if we turn down roles or refuse to take direction we find degrading. We find comfort in our fellow cast members who share similar feelings. And than there are those who live by "at least I'm not in the chorus!) Or as Jack called it 3rd tree from the left.
But then there are PEOPLE- Every day people, who have never stepped foot on a stage. They get typed, more often than not. Every one knows the "dumb girl," "the fat kid" "the slacker," "the snot," "the bully," the jock," "the kid we feel certain is gay (and sometimes is or is not!" "the shy kid," "the geek," "the theatre nerd" (that was me)
Who are you? Don't be any of the above. Unlike theatre, where a director determines what role you play, you have the opportunity to play all those and more. So what you're the "theatre geek?" Does that mean you can't be popular? Because you're "shy" does it mean that you're not smart? Because you're African American, does that mean you're "poor?" How about the "gay kid?" Does that mean you can't open, and still be successful? NO!
Play whatever role you want to play. Don't force the worlds type casting upon yourself. I'm guilty: I've been the "little person" meant to be alone, unsuccessful and uneducated. I accepted that type for a long time. It took years before I decided that role wasn't for me! I turned it down. I know what roles are for me, and which are not. Unlike my performing days: I can look the world in the face and say "SHOVE IT!" I won't be her, I won't even look at the script and consider it. This is my life, and I wont type cast myself.
So no matter who, or where you are reject "types," and cast yourself as who you want to be. And no matter what find a time, a moment, and a place to sing your SWAN SONG!
Monday, March 7, 2011
Ya know ...
This blog started out as peek inside the life of someone the world deemed "different." I intended for it to be for the kids that I lecture to. I wanted a way for them to connect with me as a person, and it has. On many levels it has touched people, and the feed back I get from students is so rewarding. Yet somehow, this went from being about me, to being for me.
I don't want to be pacified, or pitied. I have this voyeuristic need to move people in a public forum. I put my life on display, for the sake of finding someone who's "been there." In a world that, at times, I feel so alone it's nice to know that I am in good company.
I separate my world from yours, mainly because I feel so different. I know that you can't see my life, until you see it through my eyes. Events that happen to you, have very different shades when they are are laid out for me.
I'm hard, and strong. I'm confident in myself. Yet, at times I am vulnerable, and extremely insecure. I never break, but I crack. I don't rip, but I tear. I often find myself jealous, and proud of the people I love. I live for myself, but would die for some. I am taking such great strides, but find myself, slowly falling backwards.
My mom's voice of reason would echo in the back of my head. But she's no longer here, and my voice of reason is mute. My physical voice has no reason.
I think mom would say: "You're OK. You're on the right path. Taniya, be patient and move quietly."
Yea, that's what she would say.
I don't want to be pacified, or pitied. I have this voyeuristic need to move people in a public forum. I put my life on display, for the sake of finding someone who's "been there." In a world that, at times, I feel so alone it's nice to know that I am in good company.
I separate my world from yours, mainly because I feel so different. I know that you can't see my life, until you see it through my eyes. Events that happen to you, have very different shades when they are are laid out for me.
I'm hard, and strong. I'm confident in myself. Yet, at times I am vulnerable, and extremely insecure. I never break, but I crack. I don't rip, but I tear. I often find myself jealous, and proud of the people I love. I live for myself, but would die for some. I am taking such great strides, but find myself, slowly falling backwards.
My mom's voice of reason would echo in the back of my head. But she's no longer here, and my voice of reason is mute. My physical voice has no reason.
I think mom would say: "You're OK. You're on the right path. Taniya, be patient and move quietly."
Yea, that's what she would say.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Me
I'm a geek!
My favorite shows are Glee, and the Bachelor.
My ipod is filled with musical soundtracks, and barely anything else.
I look at X-rays, on the internet, for fun.
Google is my best friend: I use it to search for random things, just for the hell of it.
While driving with my friend who was admiring a late night sky: I announced "It looks like that because Mars and the moon are in alignment."
My all time favorite movie is Dirty Dancing, even after all these years. That is a fact that completely conflicts with my background: I would sit in a theatre and watch live plays, all day. Yet somehow, I could also watch Dirty Dancing all day.
I blog about nothing, and believe that people actually read it.
I watch the History Channel all the time. I never tire of their shows on conspiracy theories, Aliens, and ancient civilizations.
I long to be in an operating room, to witness and partake in a surgical procedure.
I've broken 91 bones (yes, I've kept count.) my body is mapped with scars and I love telling people about all of them.
In college, I actually, loved writing papers, and essays. I loved it so much that I would devote an entire weekend to completing one. I also, turned it into s business, of sorts. I had people pay me to write papers for them. Now I don't advocate that, but I was an entrepreneur.
I can't stand poor grammer, and word usage. (even in text messages! LOL)
Lastly ... I spent 10 minutes writing this ...
But you just read it! :)
My favorite shows are Glee, and the Bachelor.
My ipod is filled with musical soundtracks, and barely anything else.
I look at X-rays, on the internet, for fun.
Google is my best friend: I use it to search for random things, just for the hell of it.
While driving with my friend who was admiring a late night sky: I announced "It looks like that because Mars and the moon are in alignment."
My all time favorite movie is Dirty Dancing, even after all these years. That is a fact that completely conflicts with my background: I would sit in a theatre and watch live plays, all day. Yet somehow, I could also watch Dirty Dancing all day.
I blog about nothing, and believe that people actually read it.
I watch the History Channel all the time. I never tire of their shows on conspiracy theories, Aliens, and ancient civilizations.
I long to be in an operating room, to witness and partake in a surgical procedure.
I've broken 91 bones (yes, I've kept count.) my body is mapped with scars and I love telling people about all of them.
In college, I actually, loved writing papers, and essays. I loved it so much that I would devote an entire weekend to completing one. I also, turned it into s business, of sorts. I had people pay me to write papers for them. Now I don't advocate that, but I was an entrepreneur.
I can't stand poor grammer, and word usage. (even in text messages! LOL)
Lastly ... I spent 10 minutes writing this ...
But you just read it! :)
Saturday, January 22, 2011
This is what happens when you let your guard down
"Taniya, you need to let your guard down." My sister told me that last week. A statement in a way that only she could say. The sarcastic tone, and almost judgmental way she said it made me want to kill her.
Of course my guard has been up. You walk one day in my shoes and tell me you would not be guarded. I've spent my whole preparing myself for rejection. There is rejection in all aspects of life, yet being in a position of always having to "prove" yourself amplifies the sting.
I get so tired of trying to be good enough for whatever, or whoever I desire.
I've loved ONCE. For two blissful years, I felt I found my person. I had an understanding ear, an open heart, and a shoulder to cry on, just for me. I let my guard down, and felt loved. More importantly I felt loved unconditionally. I felt that our bond was unbreakable, and transcended all this physical crap I've always worried about.
I hate the fact that my whole life has been marked by a big proverbial "BUT" ... She's in a wheelchair, BUT she's smart. She's a "little person" BUT she's pretty. She's handicap BUT she's independent. I don't want my whole life to have that "in spite of tone."
I didn't feel that with him. I just felt that we were. ... not that he loved me in spite of our differences. He just did ...
Our bond was breakable, and so was my heart. So naturally my guard has been up. There's a little brick wall all the way around it.
"Let it down" was not even a consideration ...until my sister said it. It felt almost like a challenge, so I took it on.
I met a guy, online, and we made arrangements to meet at the movies. A nice enough date ... he paid for tickets, held doors me, held my hand during the movie, and we shared a small kiss at the end of the night. "Call me tomorrow, and let's do this again" is how we parted.
I sent him a few text, but haven't heard from him since that night. The guard is back up, because now I feel rejected ...
Of course my guard has been up. You walk one day in my shoes and tell me you would not be guarded. I've spent my whole preparing myself for rejection. There is rejection in all aspects of life, yet being in a position of always having to "prove" yourself amplifies the sting.
I get so tired of trying to be good enough for whatever, or whoever I desire.
I've loved ONCE. For two blissful years, I felt I found my person. I had an understanding ear, an open heart, and a shoulder to cry on, just for me. I let my guard down, and felt loved. More importantly I felt loved unconditionally. I felt that our bond was unbreakable, and transcended all this physical crap I've always worried about.
I hate the fact that my whole life has been marked by a big proverbial "BUT" ... She's in a wheelchair, BUT she's smart. She's a "little person" BUT she's pretty. She's handicap BUT she's independent. I don't want my whole life to have that "in spite of tone."
I didn't feel that with him. I just felt that we were. ... not that he loved me in spite of our differences. He just did ...
Our bond was breakable, and so was my heart. So naturally my guard has been up. There's a little brick wall all the way around it.
"Let it down" was not even a consideration ...until my sister said it. It felt almost like a challenge, so I took it on.
I met a guy, online, and we made arrangements to meet at the movies. A nice enough date ... he paid for tickets, held doors me, held my hand during the movie, and we shared a small kiss at the end of the night. "Call me tomorrow, and let's do this again" is how we parted.
I sent him a few text, but haven't heard from him since that night. The guard is back up, because now I feel rejected ...
Sunday, January 2, 2011
The end of a decade...
Things have been up and down in the past decade: I must say that I'm glad it is coming to an end. I changed, I grew. I hurt. I loved like, I fear, I'll never love again. I lost the only thing I had of value ... my mom. That loss forced me to stand on my own two feet: that rendered me weak and helpless, before it lifted me up and made me strong.- stronger.
For the first time in a long time I felt desirable. If I tell the truth it was the first time ever. I was hit on in a parking lot (of all places) We exchanged numbers, and he wants to take me out. My guard is up ... I'm afraid. There's this small part of me (OK a bigger part than I'm willing to admit.) that fears the little disabled person. The person who, for years, felt "un-datable" for much of my adult life. There has been only one man to make me feel like a woman, and not a "little" woman. And then one day he figured it out ... he realized beyond an emotional connection there was much I lacked - physical superficial attraction.
I went out New Years Eve, and had a great time. I flirted with every man in the place. (I mean OVERTLY flirted!) One guy even called me the most beautiful woman in the place. God that felt good. Then suddenly it made me feel terrible. I found every reason to not accept it: he was drunk. He was looking to take ANYONE home. He was into the novelty of talking to a "midget." Why could I not think that he honestly thought I was beautiful? Why was that so hard for me to hear?
For the first time in a long time I felt desirable. If I tell the truth it was the first time ever. I was hit on in a parking lot (of all places) We exchanged numbers, and he wants to take me out. My guard is up ... I'm afraid. There's this small part of me (OK a bigger part than I'm willing to admit.) that fears the little disabled person. The person who, for years, felt "un-datable" for much of my adult life. There has been only one man to make me feel like a woman, and not a "little" woman. And then one day he figured it out ... he realized beyond an emotional connection there was much I lacked - physical superficial attraction.
I went out New Years Eve, and had a great time. I flirted with every man in the place. (I mean OVERTLY flirted!) One guy even called me the most beautiful woman in the place. God that felt good. Then suddenly it made me feel terrible. I found every reason to not accept it: he was drunk. He was looking to take ANYONE home. He was into the novelty of talking to a "midget." Why could I not think that he honestly thought I was beautiful? Why was that so hard for me to hear?
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