In The Eye Of The Beholder
I've been thinking a lot about perceptions for the past couple of days. How could I not, with Susan Boyle so much in the news? In case you are living under a rock, she is the middle-aged Scottish woman who totally blew everyone away this week by her incredible rendition of "I Dreamed a Dream" from the musical Les Miserables, while on a British talent television show.
Blew everyone away because she looked dowdy, frumpy. Was unsophisticated, unpolished. Admitted she had never been kissed and lived alone with her cat. And gee, as everyone knows, you have to be outwardly beautiful and glamourous to be talented and deserving of success.
My boss actually sent around the You Tube link the other day, which was surprising in itself, since he normally doesn't gravitate to the feel-good, inspirational stories.
I watched it then at the office, watched it again on two different news stations that evening. Bawled my eyes out in the privacy of my own living room.
Because here is someone who probably has lived her life as a social outcast in many ways. Perhaps happily, perhaps not; I have no idea. Someone who, in spite of appearances, had a lifelong dream and the guts to go for it. Now she is garnering more attention than I'm sure she could have imagined. Where this will take her, only time will tell. I expect there could be much joy along her journey--perhaps also much disillusionment.
But I can only applaud her courage.
I look at my own life and am saddened that I have spent so many decades struggling with such darkness that I no longer have any dreams to strive for. Stopped dreaming at all when I turned forty, in fact.
I look at my own life as a social outcast, as someone who also might never have been kissed if not for having taken up with the putz of an ex-partner/husband.
I look at my own life, living alone with not one, but three cats. I don't happen to find that "sad," but the stereotype of the "middle-aged cat lady" is very prevalent.
The interesting thing is that other people don't perceive me as an outcast or dowdy. I perceive myself that way, always have. Have always known that I didn't have whatever it is (appearance/body, personality) to be attractive to a partner. Maybe fine for "right now," but only until someone better comes along. Have always felt I wasn't "enough," whatever "enough" was. Have always carried too much heavy emotional baggage and let it drag me down.
Susan Boyle has it all over me. This woman hasn't let either her own, or anyone else's, perceptions stop her from taking a shot at what's she's wanted her entire life. She shows me that everyone, even those who aren't outwardly beautiful, deserve to have dreams and to pursue them. She gives me --us all--hope.
Three cheers for the outcasts of this world.
Blew everyone away because she looked dowdy, frumpy. Was unsophisticated, unpolished. Admitted she had never been kissed and lived alone with her cat. And gee, as everyone knows, you have to be outwardly beautiful and glamourous to be talented and deserving of success.
My boss actually sent around the You Tube link the other day, which was surprising in itself, since he normally doesn't gravitate to the feel-good, inspirational stories.
I watched it then at the office, watched it again on two different news stations that evening. Bawled my eyes out in the privacy of my own living room.
Because here is someone who probably has lived her life as a social outcast in many ways. Perhaps happily, perhaps not; I have no idea. Someone who, in spite of appearances, had a lifelong dream and the guts to go for it. Now she is garnering more attention than I'm sure she could have imagined. Where this will take her, only time will tell. I expect there could be much joy along her journey--perhaps also much disillusionment.
But I can only applaud her courage.
I look at my own life and am saddened that I have spent so many decades struggling with such darkness that I no longer have any dreams to strive for. Stopped dreaming at all when I turned forty, in fact.
I look at my own life as a social outcast, as someone who also might never have been kissed if not for having taken up with the putz of an ex-partner/husband.
I look at my own life, living alone with not one, but three cats. I don't happen to find that "sad," but the stereotype of the "middle-aged cat lady" is very prevalent.
The interesting thing is that other people don't perceive me as an outcast or dowdy. I perceive myself that way, always have. Have always known that I didn't have whatever it is (appearance/body, personality) to be attractive to a partner. Maybe fine for "right now," but only until someone better comes along. Have always felt I wasn't "enough," whatever "enough" was. Have always carried too much heavy emotional baggage and let it drag me down.
Susan Boyle has it all over me. This woman hasn't let either her own, or anyone else's, perceptions stop her from taking a shot at what's she's wanted her entire life. She shows me that everyone, even those who aren't outwardly beautiful, deserve to have dreams and to pursue them. She gives me --us all--hope.
Three cheers for the outcasts of this world.
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