Late bloomers
I almost never watch Primetime Live. It simply doesn't occur to me most of the time. Tonight I channel surfed and happened on it. Diane Sawyer was interviewing Teri Hatcher and as each moment passed I was more enchanted.
I enjoyed watching Teri Hatcher as Lois Lane and thought she was a hoot in Seinfeld. Now, as Susan on Desperate Housewives, she's back in rare form. She just won the Golden Globe for her performance and was so real in her acceptance speech that she actually called herself a "has-been."
But here's why I really like her. She was barefoot for the interview. She talked about her flaws and about lying on her kitchen floor crying because she felt like a failure -- her marriage had ended, her career was flagging, she didn't have a new man in her life. She admitted that she tries on lots of outfits before a date. Even more real was her confession that in her mind she thinks men still see her as the insecure girl in eighth grade as opposed to the beautiful, vibrant, accomplished 40-something woman that she is.
Time for me to confess something. I just had a major insight -- epiphany? -- about myself this week that involved experiences from eighth and ninth grade. I know it sounds a bit silly, but I find it so validating to hear someone I respect and admire talk about reverting back like that. It was a rough time. I had little if any self-esteem. I was awkward. Withdrawn. I developed early and wasn't ready for the attention that came with it. And Teri Hatcher can relate.
In my Artist's Way class earlier tonight, I marveled at how my students talked about how carefree they felt at age eight (this was a discussion stemming from a homework exercise). I couldn't relate. Incredibly, I feel much freer now than I did as a child. I'm a late bloomer and, frankly, wouldn't trade it.
But it's interesting how some things trigger us and bring us right back to that place we're so happy to have left behind. Getting to the heart of it is almost surreal, like you can't believe you could be so warped as to revert to that gawky kid and her massive fears. Teri Hatcher told Diane Sawyer that her insecurities are just part of her makeup.
I like that kind of acceptance.
I enjoyed watching Teri Hatcher as Lois Lane and thought she was a hoot in Seinfeld. Now, as Susan on Desperate Housewives, she's back in rare form. She just won the Golden Globe for her performance and was so real in her acceptance speech that she actually called herself a "has-been."
But here's why I really like her. She was barefoot for the interview. She talked about her flaws and about lying on her kitchen floor crying because she felt like a failure -- her marriage had ended, her career was flagging, she didn't have a new man in her life. She admitted that she tries on lots of outfits before a date. Even more real was her confession that in her mind she thinks men still see her as the insecure girl in eighth grade as opposed to the beautiful, vibrant, accomplished 40-something woman that she is.
Time for me to confess something. I just had a major insight -- epiphany? -- about myself this week that involved experiences from eighth and ninth grade. I know it sounds a bit silly, but I find it so validating to hear someone I respect and admire talk about reverting back like that. It was a rough time. I had little if any self-esteem. I was awkward. Withdrawn. I developed early and wasn't ready for the attention that came with it. And Teri Hatcher can relate.
In my Artist's Way class earlier tonight, I marveled at how my students talked about how carefree they felt at age eight (this was a discussion stemming from a homework exercise). I couldn't relate. Incredibly, I feel much freer now than I did as a child. I'm a late bloomer and, frankly, wouldn't trade it.
But it's interesting how some things trigger us and bring us right back to that place we're so happy to have left behind. Getting to the heart of it is almost surreal, like you can't believe you could be so warped as to revert to that gawky kid and her massive fears. Teri Hatcher told Diane Sawyer that her insecurities are just part of her makeup.
I like that kind of acceptance.
posted by Nancy Colasurdo | 10:41 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home