So I was sitting on the couch watching the ballroom scene in Cinderella, and this popped into my head. So I typed it up as quick as possible and here it is.
When I was little, my mother made me take year after year of ballet and gymnastics and figure skating. She figured it would make me graceful and strong. When she had been my age, she said, she had always wanted to be a beautiful ballerina in a pink tutu, but she had never had the chance.
She was living out her greatest childhood wants and insecurities on me. In order that I not get fat, like her mom had told my mom she was, in school I took a salad every day to live out the perfection she never was. I got my hair done every month because in order to impress boys I needed to be a beautiful blonde. I got my nails done at Gaston's and wore flawless makeup and the perfect clothes. I floated around in pink tulle dresses and white patent leather mary janes and kid gloves.
Except as it turns out, every plan has a flaw to it and the flaw was me. I didn't want to be my mother's clone. I wanted to be who I was. When I was in grade 7 and Dylan came out, my mom was devastated. He could no longer marry Caitlin, this girl my mom knew and made plans, in her head, that Dylan would marry her.
They would be like the Brady Bunch, with 4 kids. Our family, my parents and Dylan and I, are a role model family on the outside. My mom is especially proud of the way I manage to control myself, as she calls it. I manage not to insult anything and to stay pretty and proper in front of anybody important. God knows how I could embarrass her in front of her Garden Club and come out wearing some Ellie-type getup with fishnet tights while she's serving tea and make her facelift split right down the center. Of course God knows I would never do that, as does my mom, because I would be grounded like there's no tomorrow.
To her utter dismay and disappointment, I quit ballet and figure skating when I was 10. I've quit wearing my pink dresses and I don't quite float anymore, because I wear high heels and I'm quite steady on the ground, thank you very much. I've replaced gymnastics with Spirit Squad, and filled my days with dates at the Dot and going to the beach and the mall and the movies with friends. I've replaced Juan, the manicurists' son, with Spinner, and Teen Garden Party with dance parties in Hazel's hardwood basement.
So to my mother, I am this huge disappointment, even though all her high class friends and stylists and personal trainers think I'm the cutest thing they ever saw.
Except walking through the school gym on the arm of Spinner now in my Sari, I'm thinking that even though I quit ballet, I'm pretty graceful now. I'm taking small steps and practically floating across the floor like I did when was younger. Maybe if she saw me now she would be proud, and hug me and watch me float some more. Maybe I would be my mother's dream. You know, after all, dreams are weightless.