Saturday, April 30, 2016

I'm Not Going to Prom

Hello Dear Winos...

I must first apologize for my LOOONNG absence- I just stopped writing and never started back up again :-(

But I am back, and not even writing about what you would expect- Autism Awareness Month, Inclusive Education, or even autism for that matter.

Today I want to talk about not going to prom. I didn't go to my senior prom, on account of just having a baby and all. I did go to prom as a sophomore - asked by a senior- who also happened to be my 2nd cousin- who I still suspect felt sorry for me- and his date got food poisoning the day of.

No- I'm not going to my senior girl child's prom. Of course, I'm not talking about LITERALLY not going, sheesh, I'm not that bad of a smother (yes I am). No- my beautiful, amazing, smart, funny, talented Teenzilla wants absolutely NOTHING to do with her senior prom. And I am heartbroken.

Silly? Selfish? Yes and yes. But I accept these feelings and don't even feel bad about them. Since I birthed a girl child, I have had elaborate daydreams about first boyfriend (he was a weirdo) first formal dance (went with her friends) and PROM. The last hurrah of her high school career.  Shopping! Frilly princess dress! The hair! The nails! THE SHOES! The date showing up in a limo and their  perfectly matched corsage and boutonnière! The pictures!  In my silly daydreams I have pictured all of this happening and it never failed to make me smile.

THIS
But my wonderful, independent, headstrong, amazing daughter isn't going. Not with a boy/girlfriend (hey- whatever makes her happy) or a group of friends- or even saying screw everything I am going by myself and I will SLAY.  She HATES dances- does not like mainstream music- and has a like/dislike relationship with her classmates. Who I am I kidding- she INTENSELY dislikes the majority of her class, and I can't say I blame her- a lot   of over-privileged kids (what do you expect, we live on an ISLAND FFS!) that she has nothing in common with, save a very select few who I love as if they were my own.


Yes!
Nope, my amazing kiddo will not be dress shopping, will not be getting a frilly, huge, Glenda the Good Witch type dress, or getting her hair and nails done, or picked up (in a limo or otherwise), or taking a million photos, or getting embarrassed when I shed a tear or two because this truly makes her graduation and departure for college so much more real, and my little girl in pigtails is grown up.

I have nobody to blame but myself and her dad. We raised this strong woman-child, we instilled the values she has, we encouraged not following the crowd, not doing things because everyone else was and to follow her heart but listen to her brain. She has never been anything but unique. She has always been an old soul, wise beyond her years.  She has never conformed to social norms, or rather never more than enough to make life a little easier on herself. She is opinionated, brash, anxious, and bold. She is an anachronism.  And my heart is practically bursting with pride at the fantastic person she has become.

But I am still selfish. I still want my prom daydream. I still want all that goes along with being the mom of a senior girl getting ready to go to prom.  I won't lie, I've cried about it. I threw myself a pity party and drank a bottle of wine to drown my sorrows. My self-centered sorrows. My broken daydreams.

This isn't about me. This is about this lovely young woman I have raised.  This is about her ideals, wants, values, thoughts and dreams. The ones we taught her. The ones we encouraged.











Yeah... my brain knows all of this. It's my heart that is having a hard time accepting it.