This one is kind of weird today. I think it’s weird because I’m admitting things that I’ve never really admitted to anyone but my sister. It’s one of the few times I’ve ever stopped for a minute and said to myself, “Wow, this feels really personal. I wonder what people will think.”
It’s weird because I can talk all day long about suffering from insomnia and depression and not once feel embarrassed about it. But admitting I wanted to be a beauty queen just seems silly. It was, however, exactly what needed dumping from my brain today.
Ever since I woke up Friday morning at 7am and compulsively turned on the TV to see what might be happening with the royal wedding, I’ve felt that familiar feeling. It’s a weird feeling that I’ll try to explain and you’ll probably think I’m weird. WHich I am so I guess it’s okay.
I have a hard time watching big events sometimes. I’m torn between two emotions. I’m thrilled to be seeing something so thrilling. But the other half of me is always in comparison mode. I’m always looking at the way someone else is living their life and wondering if I will ever measure up to the excitement, glamor, satisfaction, honor, or whatever it is at the moment.
Let me explain.
So waaaaaay back in 1984 when most of you weren’t even a twinkling in your mama’s eye, I was watching the Winter Olympics. I was watching Cindy Armstrong race downhill for a women’s gold medal in skiing. And at that moment, I wanted to be her. I wanted to devote my life to downhill skiing. I cut out articles and made a little shrine to her in my closet. And then my dreams faded as I realized I lived in Southern Maryland with no mountains of snow nearby. And I wasn’t every good at skiing and didn’t really like it all that much.
I also wanted to be Miss Universe. Let me be clear. Not Miss America. That’s totally different. That pageant required talent. i wanted to be in the international competition and win that extra large beautiful rhinestone crown. I became obsessed with beauty pageant and created a whole beauty pageant scrapbook. I also came to the realization that I wasn’t really beauty queen material. I was drawn to watch the pageants but couldn’t because it caused me a little heart break.
Movies? Hard for me to watch sometimes. I’ll never be the powerful spy who can butt kick anyone in her path or the dashing archaeologist finding the holy grail. I’ll never even be the actress up on stage thanking the Academy for this great honor. It was my dream to be an actress and sometimes watching the awards shows is a reminder of what I didn’t become.
As for the royal wedding, did I ever really have fantasies of becoming a princess? Not a British one. Queen Elizabeth’s sons were too old (or ugly) and Princess Diana’s sons were way too young. Plus, the fact that I don’t have royalty in my blood, you know. I guess watching the wedding reminds me of one more fantasy that someone else is living.