RockStar?

Some of my earliest memories are singing on stage. I began performing when I was 3 years old. My parents picked out the song "Crazy" by Patsy Cline for me to learn. And boy did I... I can remember singing that song like it was MY heart that was broken. Even at that young age I knew how to incorporate emotions into my singing as if the lyrics were my own. As if I was the one... lonely, heartbroken, and alone.

Sometimes I think people under estimate how much emotion a child can have. My parents divorced when I was in 1st grade...heartbroken.  My neighbor assaulting me...heartbroken. My Dad moving to another city and starting a new life... heartbroken. All in the first grade. When I sang that song, it was like I drew from those experiences. Each note and word floating through the air dripping with my pain and sorrow. Then when it was over, a feeling of relief and catharsis. Therapy. Cheap therapy. No insurance claims necessary.

Over the years, singing became my identity. It's what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. It was who I was. The singer. The performer.

As I grew older, that's how people knew me. As the girl who sings. I am not complaining, just the facts. Just laying the ground work to explain how I named the "Rock Star" portion of this bloggy blog.

At the age of 16, my dad answered an ad in the paper for a rock/alternative cover band looking for a singer. I auditioned and started singing for them. Singing in bars, clubs, events. It took special permission just to get me in to sing since I was under age. It was like a dream come true. I could pay my bills with my voice (OK I had only a few at that time, but still, it counts). Needless to say, it ended badly. My heart got broken, but hind sight is 20/20 folks. I got out at the perfect time.

It's hard when your entire memory of your life includes the plan to become a rock star. And you don't....

When you see old friends, they want to know where you are singing next... club, bar, the fair? Nope.

Now, my answer includes... My next show is in my 11 week old baby girls' nursery. An audience of one. Funny enough, my son has never liked my singing. Since he learned how to say "stop!" he has told me to stop singing. He hates when I sing. Oh the irony... But my baby girl stops everything and listens. She looks straight at me and takes it all in.

After all these years of wanting to be a rock star, that girl inside of me has finally stopped being so pushy and critical. Yelling at me that I really never made it like some thought I would. Like I dreamed I would.  That girl, inside me who thought that singing was my destiny... can finally move on. I'm not saying that one day I might not try to sing professionally. I am just saying that for now.... those little tiny eyes staring at me like I am the sun, the moon, and the stars is the only ticket in town. And Miss A gladly attends my concerts. My little audience of one....

I may not be a famous rock star. I may not be doing the job, that for so many years of my life, I thought was my God given path. But finally I am okay with that. And for now, I am Miss A's RockStar and in my book, that counts for something everything.