Last Saturday night, I looked at our 17-year old son, my mouth hanging open, my hands on my cheeks, and thought to myself:
Who are you??
Christian plays electric guitar. He started late by Tiger Mom standards; he was 14 when the music teacher at school put a bass guitar in his hands. He progressed quickly to lead, and we set him up with an amp and a couple of guitars… and begrudgingly agreed when he asked if he could turn his bedroom into a music room and start sleeping in the guest room.
Last June, when school let out and he was wont to sit in that music room and play video games all day, I suggested we get a guitar teacher. He was bored—and totally game—and I found a guy in our local area who was willing to help Christian pursue what seemed like a very far-away (and by mom standards, more than slightly unrealistic) dream: to form a band.
Christian loves hard metal. And I spent the summer listening—over and over and over and over again—to 15-second licks from Metallica, Megadeath, Iron Maiden, Ozzy Osbourne, and others I did not recognize. It was the definition of bittersweet. My ears wanted to bleed. My heart wanted to burst.
I could hear the progress. First his fingers got on board, and then his soul. And over time, I could tell that he was feeling the music. Really leaning into it. Not just playing the licks, but BEING the licks.
And last Saturday, Christian’s “big night” arrived.
The guitar teacher had made Christian a promise on day-one: if he studied the music, played hard, practiced daily, and learned the songs… he’d get him on a stage. Christian did all that was asked of him, and Jan and I packed our car with friends and family members and headed down to Soma, a local all-ages club that was once a movie theatre, to hear him play. He lined the front of the stage with his own friends from school.
And when the house lights went down and the first purple flash of stage lights shot through the room, I was utterly struck by surprise to see our son standing on top of a speaker, larger than life, with a Flying V in his hand and more blonde curly hair than I’d even realized he had, his head banging with absolute abandon.
He was enormous.
Fully lit. Powerful.
Entirely comfortable.
100% natural.
Laughing.
A rock star.
He was, literally, a person I had never met.
As I stood before him, slack-jawed, I thanked the universe. Not that he could play guitar. (That’s his dream, not mine.) But that he felt so comfortable playing BIG. Going ALL OUT. Seizing the moment.
He jumped up and down. Climbed on speakers. Crouched down and played directly to his friends. Swung his arm full-circle on the down strokes. Tossed his head back and laughed. And used his long blonde curls like a secret weapon.
In every moment, he OWNED what was his. And it was abundantly clear that he was doing all of this not because of what other people would think… but because it was a total BLAST for HIM.
It made me think about the women who I coach in life and lead through branding exercises. About how they so often hold back and question themselves.
About the miserable fear of “going too big.”
What happens to us at a certain age when the world tells us we’re too much? Too loud. Taking up too much space. Too brainy. Too ditzy. Too aggressive, argumentative, disagreeable. Too unwilling to compromise or attached to our own beliefs. Too big. Too small. Too fat. Too extroverted, introverted, too shy, too in-your-face. Too dreamy…
What happens when the world tells us we’re not enough? Not talented enough. Not gutsy enough. Not trying hard enough. Not smart enough, rich enough, experienced enough, tall enough, strong enough, educated enough. Not dedicated enough to the needs of others or sensitive enough to the feelings of others. Not hard enough, soft enough, or good enough…
When do we reach the point where we stop showing ourselves completely because the world tells us that it doesn’t want us… in that way?
When did we stop doing what we want?? Or stop wanting all together?
Christian’s performance Saturday night was especially poignant for me, because I’ve had to lead so many women through the process of undoing what the world did to them.
If you have any of these feelings “at your age,” then I invite you to join me in a REVOLUTION.
Positively PrimeTime: The 7-Day Revolution.
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We’ll uncover the lies about how much time we have left and the “extenuating circumstances” that prevent us from using it to our advantage… and take a good hard look at the dreams we set aside.
We’ll put the kibosh on “too little” and “too much,” and wrap our arms lovingly around our very own “just right.”
During The Revolution, you’ll get super sparkling crystal clear on what you WANT—whether it’s a business, a book, the love of your life, an athletic achievement, an artistic endeavor, the job of your dreams, or anything else that lights your soul on fire—so you can stand on your own version of a Marshall stack, the world lighting you with flashes of purple and fuschia and bright light, and play out YOUR dream. Just the way you’ve always imagined.
The 7-Day Revolution was designed for you to find the passion and promise inside of YOU. So you can play your song—whatever it is—to your widest audience.
If you’re a middle-aged woman who’s ready to go all out, but saddened that you might have missed the chance, feeling stuck in what you “should” be doing, utterly unsure of what you want, or afraid you’re too much or too little, then join us in a REVOLUTION.
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How great would it be to have the people in your life look straight at you and think:
Who are you???
And P.S…
If you’re NOT a middle-aged woman looking to live life to the fullest and slough off the “too little, too much, too late,” is there a middle-aged woman in your life who could use this message? If so, please forward her this email… or consider making a gift of The 7-Day Revolution.
