Being Normal

Sometimes I wish I could just be normal, but I can't and I never could. I tried it once when I was 13, and I sucked at it. My peers could see right through it, even though I dressed and tried to act normal so I could fit in, I was still an outcast. It's like I emanate this aura of weirdness that people instinctively pick up on. I'm ok with not fitting in, and being a weirdo. It's fine because I've been practicing the art of giving zero fucks for years now. Ironically the fewer fucks I give about people liking me, the more people like me.

When I say that I wish I could be normal, I mean that I wish I could just be content living a life of mediocrity and conforming to the status quo. I feel like if I could just be normal then my marriage wouldn't have collapsed and I would have closer relationships with my other immediate family members.  A life less ordinary has left it's scars, but then again no one gets out of this life unscathed.

It's weird, because I've done all that normal shit you're supposed to do without the intent of ever doing it. I've been married, reproduced and I own a home. I don't know why those are the things that as North Americans we strive to achieve. I'm certainly not content to just be a homeowner, wife and mom. I kinda wish I was, because I feel like life would be less complicated. I ask myself all the time, "Are all of those happy wives and moms on Facebook actually as happy as they claim to be? Is having a husband and children really that completely fulfilling for them?  Are their kids really their world? Why is it that other women can be perfectly content with doing the wife-mom thing, but for me it's not enough?" The answer is...

 I cannot exist without creating. I thought about this the other day as I was walking along the pier, at night, in the rain, by myself...having a conversation with an imaginary version of a friend. I don't mean an imaginary friend, but I mean a person that I know in my real life that I imagine to be there with me in that moment. Weird? Who knows, and really I don't care because it's how I figure shit out.

I asked the imaginary version of my friend, "If I were stranded on an island where I could survive, how would I occupy my time?"

He responded, "I don't think you'd spend your time making a home for yourself. You'd probably find a cave to live in, and that'd be good enough for you. I could see you making up a story, but not just writing it down. I could see you building entire sets with characters in them like a 3D comic book."

I was like, "Yeah! That's totally what I'd do! It mirrors what I do right now anyway. I don't spend my time at fucking Bed, Bath & Beyond shopping for housewares with my significant other on the weekend. I'm not a homemaker. I'm a world creator, perhaps at the expense of letting my domestic life crumble, but I can't help it. Even if I were in a situation where all of my material comforts were stripped away, I'd still be compelled to create."

So here I am. My domestic world in ruins and still creating. Normal? No. A life worth living? Hell yeah! My song Serial Killer from my new EP 'Blood Sweat Tears' is about living in an unorthodox domestic situation with an ex-partner. It's like a post-apocalyptic relationship where you're struggling to survive, and salvaging what's left.

Serial Killer is available as a FREE DOWNLOAD on my website

So what is normal? I mean, there's the status quo societal norms that we're all under some kind of pressure to conform to, but none us are really normal. Maybe we lead so-called normal lives on the outside, but on the inside is this whole different plane of existence. What I've learned about being normal is that your inside world is YOUR normal. Embrace it. The truer we are to living in our outside world as the person we truly are on the inside, the more content and fulfilled our every day life will feel, even if it's a big mess for the time being like mine is right now.

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Mommy Issues

Don't get me wrong...I love my mom. She is one of the most caring, self-sacrificing, generous and genuinely ethical humans on the face of this planet. It's a shame that we don't see eye to eye and that we're both incredibly stubborn and steadfast in our beliefs. She's a perfectionist like me. She wants more than anything to do the "right thing" to the point that she suffers from horrific anxiety out of fear that she's making mistakes. Now, her perfectionism stems from the example her mother set for her. My grandmother is also a perfectionist, paralyzed by fear and overly critical of herself and others. Are we seeing a pattern here?

So, the point of this post is not to bash my mom and grandmother because despite their flaws they've given me everything. I wouldn't own a house if it weren't for their generosity. I wouldn't have been able to get my first album off the ground if it weren't for the fact that my mom moved in with me and looked after my kids. Sure, she was critical as fuck about my lack of domestic skills. She was also incredibly vocal about her moral objections to the dark, macabre and sexual nature of the content I create, but she's a 64 year old conservative woman who's never even smoked a cigarette, so what do you expect?

I stopped giving a fuck about what people thought of me in my teens. At this point in my life I'd say I'm a master of giving zero fucks about people's opinions. It doesn't bother me that my mom isn't a fan of my work. It doesn't resonate with her, and that's fine. What my biggest mommy issue is, and this goes back to my childhood is that she misunderstands my intent. I can't even tell you how many times I got in trouble because she thought I was doing something 'bad' when my intent was to do something helpful. Like the time I drew some flowers on a poster she was making, or when I tried painting the backyard patio with crayons.

She had the tendency to attach a moral judgment to everything. I was a closet Madonna fan growing up because my mom naturally disapproved of her brazen sexuality, so when she caught me at 5am fashioning a cone bra out of tin foil she was really upset. She went off about how grieved she was in her heart that I would want to create something so vulgar and want to emulate someone so morally defunct as Madonna. Growing up in her domain meant that all actions were either good or evil and that was a reflection of our souls. Needless to say that I grew up with this image of myself being disapproved of at my very core because I could rarely get things "right" in her eyes.

Is it true that she disapproves of who I am on a very intrinsic level? Probably not, but it's a belief of mine that's been fostered since childhood. I don't blame her, but I wish things were different. I wish I could have been honest with her about what was going on in my life without fear of having a moral judgment attached to everything. I know that she wishes that we could have been closer too. I pulled away and I still do because I fear that she can't accept me. I feel like the truth of who I am would cause her too much stress and grief. I fear that she can reconcile the fact that despite my liberal views and unapologetic sexuality I still have morals...strong ones. I still have a strong connection to faith in something much greater than myself. I still aspire to using my talents and resources to make the world around me a better place. I wish she could just see the condition of my heart.

Lately she's really been making an effort to reach out to me. She's finally acknowledged that even though she doesn't "get" my art, she's glad that I've found an audience that appreciates it for what it is. She's been asking me for a while now to come visit her and spend some time together. Part of me really wants to, but I'm afraid to. We've never bonded, and I feel like at this point it's too late to find any common ground. I'm so used to keeping her at arms length. 

Something that I've really struggled with lately is the thought that one day she'll die, and I didn't make the effort to repair my relationship with her. The potential of this happening sooner rather than later is now becoming a reality. She ended up getting a blood clot in her leg last month and now the doctor thinks that she could have cancer. I'm terrified, not because she could die. Death is inevitable. If she died now, I would be consumed with guilt that I didn't try to make things better between us.

It's mother's day and I wish I had a better relationship with my mom. I wish I had a better relationship with myself as a mom. I wish I had a more positive view of other moms. Everything about motherhood leaves a bitter taste in my mouth because I have mommy issues. It's like the women who can't have a good relationship with a man because of their daddy issues. I have a tough time with mom stuff and getting close with other women.

My new EP has a song on it called 'Vampires.' It's about being a woman, being a mom and my general resentment of those roles within society. While 'Vampires' focuses more on the sociological role of women, I know that a lot of my resentment towards being a woman is rooted in my childhood and my relationship with my mom. 



I don't like to leave my blog posts on a sour note, so I am resolving to make the best effort that I can to reciprocate my mom's effort of reaching out to me. Like I said before, I don't blame her for anything. I'm the one who is responsible for how I choose to have a relationship with her, so I'm not going to push her away anymore because I feel like she doesn't get me. She doesn't have to get me. She gave me a life and that's enough.

For more information on my art and music project and to get 4 songs of mine as a free download visit my official website www.borg-queen-music.com