High School Graduation: One Down, One To Go
Ever since I decided to become a Pilates instructor, finding a teacher training facility, jobs or clients have come with surprising ease. So when I was recently offered a position teaching Pilates in Dubai this summer (departing soon) I thought, of course, because it's Pilates! If only it had been this easy when I was pursuing a career in show business.
In all of the years I struggled to claw my way up to the middle rung of the entertainment ladder, I never heard, "You've got the job", as frequently as I do now as a Pilates instructor. I recently submitted a video application for some online iVoices, for iVillage thingy, and just to keep my rejection track record consistent, I was not chosen as one of their new iVoices.
It's so curious to me, actually. It's as if anytime I veer over to the entertainment side of things, a big fat hand comes down and slaps me hard across the face, saying, "That's not Pilates, knock it off."
Anyhoo, yesterday was my boyfriend's daughter's high school graduation. The last time I attended a high school graduation, I was walking down the aisle in my white gown, overly large earrings, high heels, and borderline mullet hairdoo. A sight for the sorriest of eyes to be sure.
It was held outside on the football field. We climbed the stairs of the bleachers, looking for seats, and happened to find spots in the exact same row as my boyfriend's ex-wife. Oh what fun. Long story (very) short, the two don't speak. At all. Fortunately, my boyfriend's daughter's boyfriend's family (I have got to start using actual names) sat in between us, creating a ginormous and much needed chasm (metaphorically speaking of course).
We sat through the obligatory speeches and musical performance, until finally, the diplomas were handed out. Boring, and tedious are just two of the words used to describe this long standing tradition. Until of course, you hear your boyfriend's daughter name being read. Then it's as if the Queen of England is being introduced.
I was surprised by my excitement in seeing her walk up the stairs to the stage, reach out her hand to accept her diploma and pose for the professional photographer. So young, so beautiful, so innocent. I thought I might feel a twinge of envy.
She's embarking on a world of endless possibilities and opportunities. To be starting out, the future unknown, believing that all your dreams can come true. Unless of course you go into show business. On second thought, not so much envy, as glad I don't have to go through all that again. It makes me tired just thinking about all those dreams.
After the caps were thrown high in the air and the graduates scrambled to retrieve them (those caps ain't cheap) parents and friends quickly descended upon the field, my boyfriend and I included.
We found 'our' graduate and my boyfriend took his daughter in his arms, holding her tightly, only letting go when he was ready. (Is any father ever ready) I watched as my eyes formed pools of tears. I was overjoyed for her, but I was also overcome with a subtle, yet palpable feeling of connectedness. The pride and selfless happiness a mother has for their child? I think subconsciously I had been waiting for this feeling to reveal itself to this Girlfriend Mom, and now it has.
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