Last night, I (once again) got sucked down the rabbit hole that is Palladia. I was watching a Pink concert. And I’m a big fan.
As I watched, I felt something wasn’t quite right. A strange uneasiness took over my room. I scanned the screen, trying to determine the cause. Watching her sing, something was off.
I sat for a few minutes, a little uncomfortable, as if I didn’t know this woman who’s been soundtracking my life since the year 2000.
I continued to watched her perform, dance, do something on a trapeze, and still wasn’t comfortable.
About twenty minutes in, the reason seemed to hit me out of nowhere. This must have been before she had her daughter, I said to myself, hitting the ‘Info’ button to check the date of the recording. It was her Funhouse tour, which, sure enough, was recorded in 2010, before she became a mother.
She just didn’t seem to exude inner confidence, really did not appear settled within herself.
P!nk Funhouse Tour (Photo Credit: Wikipedia)
She was cocky, was still rocking a tremendously toned lower body, kicking rock-chick ass, and clearly not at peace. Sure, I still loved her, but was a little shocked that I could actually feel, through the screen, that she hadn’t ‘arrived’ yet.
Having children literally changes the entire world for a woman – from how you relate, to what and whom you accept in your life, to very mundane decisions like where you eat dinner. And, at that moment, basically seeing my own reflection in the tv, I realized that though I often squawk at home about “not having kids and buying a condo” (which sometimes sounds like a dream), I wouldn’t be who I am without having had these experiences.
There’s no greater satisfaction than being confident in the space one occupies, knowing that every molecule in her body is swirling exactly where it should be, comfortable that her soul is learning the lessons it was meant to.
And, for some, it’s through the act of caring for another human being.
Had I bought that condo and had no kids, I’d be happy (whoa, would I be happy!), but I think I’d be a little empty as well, without even knowing it, a hollow shell of who I could have been, what I could have become. I would have been doing whatever I wanted to, but I also may not have been existing for any greater purpose.
You see, something just happens when you’re put in charge of another life (or lives). Your whole inside changes, your organs are rearranged, and your mind becomes trained to only the most important things in life. You cut out the drama, you stop taking people’s shit, you savor the beautiful moments as they happen, because you now know the difference, the difference between living fully and simply existing.
Where you could once stay out until the sun came up, you come to realize you neither want nor need to. My first love was constantly propelled by not being the ‘loser’ at home on a Friday or Saturday night. I was busy educating and working my way up the ladder. I ate expensive dinners and drank wine with friends, but life was like running on a treadmill. We ran towards that holy grail, only to have to continue running, because it was always just out of reach.
What good is lobster when you can eat it every night? How rewarding is sleeping in, when you can sleep in at will? How much fun is it to let your hair down when you never have to put it up?
And that’s what I saw when I watched that concert. I saw someone lost and searching, much like myself at that point. Someone who, I’d venture to guess, no longer exists.
So, if I guess I had to pick who I liked better, I’d pick the New Pink, the new me. A little older, a little wiser, and a lot more self-confident.
I’d get sick of lobster if I ate it every night, too.
