Growing Pains
I should be untouchable and taller by now
Hey, you. Did I ever tell you about the time my body thought it was going to be super tall? I even have a few tiny stretch marks around my hips to prove it. Alas it stopped short of about 12 inches from being 6’. The growing pains didn’t stop though, well at least not the emotional ones.
I noticed how quiet she was in the car ride to the party, but I thought her cramps had just kicked in and maybe her stomach was still a little upset from dinner. Meanwhile I was enjoying myself. I was rocking out to the music she’d been curating for us via my playlist. It was Friday. Fridays consist of homemade pizzas, watching movies, eating dessert and sometimes a glass of wine for me. I was over the fact that I had to make dinner a little early for my daughter before she went to hang with her friends. I was past the part where the gluten free pizza crust I always make, decided to stick to the pizza peel, requiring me to re-roll it out before I could get it on the stone. Gone was the moment where I took it out of the oven and realized I had forgotten to add the pepperoni my daughter requested. C’est la vie.
Let it be known, I think it’s damn near impossible not to move your body and sing full out to Zak Abel’s “Be Kind,” and yet she was quiet as a mouse. My mom spidey senses started to tingle. “What’s up? Is your stomach still hurting?” I inquired. “Yeah. I mean the medicine is helping a little bit, I think. But it’s not great.” She responds through obvious discomfort. “Well, do you think you’re going to be okay? Should you go to the party? I don’t want to drop you off just to have you text me in 30 minutes to come back and get you.” She nods in agreement and says, “Yeah, I know. I think I’ll be okay though.” You can probably guess what happened next.
On my car ride back to get her, (great guess by the way), I was desperately trying to let go of the fact that my gluten-free pizza had also stuck to the peel. Did I put corn meal down to keep it from sticking? Yes. Did I use my usual peel? Yes! Was my kitchen warmer than usual? Not to my knowledge. Can we move on, cause you’re missing the point. Anyway, I was trying to let that go. I was trying to dismiss the fact that my fresh pizza would be nice and cold by the time I got back. Meanwhile my husband was in the throws of contending with his delicious homemade glutenous maximus pizza and getting our son started on his movie. Instead of jamming out to music, I spent the car ride listening to two voices arguing in my head, “You could have stayed behind and made him go pick her up. He would have done it. You could have taken a little pressure off of yourself.” “Yeah, but then I would have had to contend with his pizza. Put it in the oven. Bake it for a bit. Rotate it. Bake it for a bit. Take it out. Slide it off the pizza pan and directly on to the rack. Bake it for a bit. Does it look right? Is there a bubble in the crust? All for him to come back and complain that I didn’t quite cook it long enough? No thank you.” The conversation ended with me side-eying both voices.
The car ride back to the house was pretty quiet. My daughter holding her belly in discomfort and feeling miserable, me super annoyed and put out. When we got home I gave my daughter marching orders to get into pajamas and into bed. I set her up with a remedy to try and ease her digestive issues and told her I would check on her later. Hubby and son were enjoying their time eating food and watching tv. I headed to the kitchen in a pissy mood to grab slices of cold non cooperative pizza. At first I asked myself, “Why are you upset? It’s not like she had control over her intestinal track. She got an upset stomach. It’s not her fault.” I took a breath and responded gently, “Well of course it’s not her fault. It’s mine. Duh! Did I know she didn’t feel well before we left our house? Yes! Did I know she didn’t feel well on the way to her friend’s house? Yes! Did I know to turn that car around and take her home? Yes! Did I do any of that? Nope!” Why didn’t I?
One of the many side-effects left over from the Pandemic, is my daughter wanting to do things with people outside of our family. She has really great friends and is adored by many yet most weekends her social calendar is filled with things we’re doing as a family: soccer games for her brother, hanging out, game night maybe. It doesn’t occur to her to make plans with friends because her Covid “Pod” comes first. So when she makes plans outside of us, my husband and I will give her the keys to the kingdom to see her act like an average teenager. She and I wanted to the same thing. We wanted her to go and have a good time with people she loves. She and I also ignored the same thing…ourselves. She ignored her body and what it was telling her it needed and I ignored my body and what it was telling me to do. What did this cause? Chaos. Haven’t I been trying to break up with chaos for some time now? Mmm-hm. Here starteth the lesson.
In between bites of cold pizza on the couch, I got this ping of disappointment in myself. Why was I stuck in this Brokeback Mountain loop of not being able to quit chaos? I had done so much work around listening to myself; not ignoring my instincts. I meditated on it. I practiced it in my breath work and in my acting classes. When was I going to be done with this shit? I glanced over at my son smacking his lips on his perfect pizza and for a second I pictured him with his Xbox controller in his hand. During his tech time I often hear him laughing and shouting at his games. There are times where I hear his frustrated and defeatist moans. It is then he usually quits playing and takes a break. Actually I’m usually the one who requires him to take a break and just take a breather. Sometimes he does but most times he just switches the game and moves on until he’s ready to come back to face the challenge. Through it all, he has never once come to me or my husband and said, “I’m done with this thing. You can give it away now.” His playing it outweighs all the disappointments.
I get into these ruts where I just want to master all my stuff. I want to beat the game instead of playing it. That visual of the Xbox made me think about all the other shit I’m constantly trying to conquer: body dysmorphia, fighting the feeling of being unattractive, acceptance of Alopecia, fear of rejection, fear of failing. I’ll look in the mirror with the confidence of a CEO one day and the next day doing everything I can to avoid mirrors all together. If I only hit the gym 4 instead of 5 times a week, maybe my husband may lose his attraction to me. I must work hard to stay fit; to be as attractive as someone like me can be, especially now that I’m BALD, right? If I don’t constantly do stuff for people and put myself last, they won’t see me as valuable and they will throw me away. Who do I think I am? I’m just an actor, and a no name one at that. No one is going to care about my blog, so I shouldn’t write. No one is going to care about the Podcast I have with my husband, so I shouldn’t speak.
Wait a minute. Now that I know I have body dysmorphia, I can look at my insecurities as false. I can pick clothes that feel pleasing to me. I can accessorize for expression and connect to myself from the inside out. Beauty is far beyond aesthetics. I know that to my core. I choose to wear my hair bald rather than wear a wig because it’s better for me and I’ve got a great head anyway. Also, I feel no less unattractive without hair as I did with, so it’s not about the hair. Those are just lies my inner critic is telling me. I don’t have to say “yes” to everything. Saying “no” is also a form of self-love. I am worthy because I am alive. Yes I get scared that I’m going to fail miserably at whatever endeavor I’m up to, but there’s a chance I can succeed and so I can do it anyway.
To win the game means it’s over. If it’s over, I’m dead. To win is to beat the level. Each year I’m alive is a different level. I can’t expect to win 2026 with just the things I learned in 2025. I’m going to need all the skills and discoveries of last year plus some additional tools and bonuses to get through the level I’m on now. We all have a relationship to something that we came here with or developed out of our life experience, and maybe it’s designed to stay with us so we can continue to get better at playing the game. Chaos was with me last year to highlight where I was refusing to say “no” to things, where I was overdoing it, ignoring my needs. Maybe this year it’s going to highlight where I’m gas lighting my own instincts. What would it look like if I took it as a sign of awareness? Maybe I shouldn’t break up with it but go to couples therapy instead?
By the end of Friday night my girl was ten times better. I was able to enjoy a slice of gluten free cake and some hot tea while watching the latest episode of “The Pitt” with my husband, (side note. holy crow I hope to get on that show one day. My god is it good). When I crawled into bed that night all was right again. The growing pains of adulthood had once again dissipated. I used to say, “I just want to be the butterfly without the metamorphosis.” Which is just a form of me resisting the pain, truth and growth it takes to evolve. I think I’ll lean more into being the reptile. I don’t have the capacity yet to shed my skin all at once, like the snake. Instead I can learn to shed a little bit at a time and hopefully admire the growth along the way..and “…here endeth the lesson..”