My Dreams

I can’t remember ever being asked what I wanted to do or become with my life. From my earliest days I only remember being told what’s expected of me. I see the church system as a place of walls; a prison where the inmates are given their instructions on how to survive the lockdown, how to earn their way out to freedom one day (in another world) and how to mess up and get the death penalty.

My Grandma taught me to believe in dreams and miracles but my exposure to her was very brief. As a small child I remember her making rainbow brite costumes for me and showing me the power of make-believe. My first stepdad taught me that angels were real. He showed me the music of scores and instrumentals and in the orchestral masterpieces he said the angels are called to come. “When you listen to this kind of music, the angels surround you and guard you while you sleep,” he used to say.

My mother didn’t believe in that kind of stuff and I remember she would get scared about some of the things I said and did. I would even get in trouble from time to time.

I was taught that I had to marry the man who took my virginity – so I did. I had two kids and I honored my vowels through sickness and in health unto death do us part. Death came in a strange way. A brain injury caused him to forget his love for me and so I lost him by a reset button that washed away the past and replaced it with something confusing and terrible.

But the moment after he left, I didn’t think about what to be I just started becoming. I got in amazing shape and began dancing again and working out and even making videos of positive messages. That ended fast when my mom came over to tell me that I was a disgrace to the bloodline making a full of myself a “business owner professional woman” and a so-called “Christian.” These are the labels I was given from a very early age and the rooms I was expected to occupy if I wanted to be accepted and loved.

I have had dreams of being in films and on sets throughout my life. I wrote about it once in a fiction novel. But even in the area of make-believe I had to name myself the script writer because I felt being an actress was forbidden and impossible for someone like me.

I look back at pictures and videos from six years ago and I think, “That’s a woman who had a shot.” But today I have an audition scheduled for 18 days from now and I look in the mirror seeing a woman who looks exhausted and I wonder why would God open this door for me now? I don’t have the money to go get facials and my hair done and I don’t have the time, diet or work/sleep schedule to get myself in tip top “beach ready” shape.

I feel like Cinderella with an invitation to the ball and no dress to wear. I need a Fairy God Mother with a magic wand if this could be possible for me to win the attention of these casting people.

Tonight I just want to say…

God, if this is your will for me, please send me miracles and get me ready for the audition. I give you the outcome and the glory. Thank you.

J