Monday, June 18, 2012

The Long-Awaited Beyoncé Post.

I've been challenged by my friend Maurine to write more honestly, and from the heart. 

So here goes.

I'm secretly Beyoncé.

Same Person

Several months ago, in the first official Proser post, I mentioned how I think I'm like Beyoncé, and it wasn't a joke. I hear her music, and it's like our brains are the same brain. I close my eyes, (and my curtains), and I get to booty-shaking.

Yes, my kids do laugh at me, ( how'd you know?).  They don't see what's happening in my head. In my mind, I'm wearing a leotard, and the spotlights are bright and trained on me, and everyone watching is thinking, "Dang, that girl is talented."

The difficulties come when I'm in my car, and one of Beyoncé's songs come on the radio. There are no curtains in my minivan, and I can't  listen to  Beyoncé  without singing along. I shake my hair, and shimmy my shoulders, so every car around me gets a free  Beyoncé  show.

Aren't they lucky?

But the other drivers aren't grateful for the Grammy Award quality show that's going on in my head. No, there is sometimes laughing and pointing, and I suddenly realize that I am a white girl/ mom/ driving a minivan/ making a fool out of myself.

My Hero Lucille Ball.

It makes me feel like Lucy Ricardo.  Lucy wants, more than anything, to be in show business. The problem is, she's not a good singer, or dancer, or actor. She is all desire, and ambition, and light on talent.

I feel like that.

 I want to be a writer, more than anything. I've always been this way. I started my first novel in fifth grade for crying out loud. I'm trying. I write almost every day. I submit my stories, and my novels. I'm doing everything I can.

But most of the time, I feel like I'm putting on a costume, and looking ridiculous, as I stand with my heart on my sleeve, and every drop of talent I have don't have on display.  People laugh. People ignore me. I make a fool out of myself. I fail, even though I want so hard to succeed. 

I can't stop, because I believe in myself to the point of delusion. In my head, I think that everyone who reads my stuff will think, "Dang, that girl is talented."

But that's not what happens.  I realize occasionally that I'm ignoring my children/house/ reality, so I can look foolish.

My soul sister  Beyoncé  know what I'm talking about.

Sweet Dreams.

My guilty pleasure, I ain't going no where

Baby long as you're here I'll be floating on air

'Cause you're my

You can be a sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare
Either way I don't wanna wake up from you
(Turn the lights on)

I mention you when I say my prayers
I wrap you around all of my thoughts
Boy you're my temporary high

I wish that when I wake up you're there
To wrap your arms around me for real
And tell me you'll stay by side

Clouds filled with stars cover the skies
And I hope it rains, you're the perfect lullaby
What kinda dream is this?

This just took a turn for the sad,  ( Beyoncé  will do that). I'm not trying to get sympathy, or support, or even adulation. That's annoying. I'm just trying to be honest as challenged.

See, that's part of the difficulties about having dreams. Not everyone who dreams will have their dream come true. Not everyone who dreams is good enough for it to happen. And you don't know which person you are, so you can't stop trying, just in case. Years pass, and there's no guarantee that all that effort will pay off.

Sometimes dreams are actually nightmares, dragging their victims around by their hopes.

 Either way, I don't wanna wake up. Because in my's beautiful.

 So I close the curtains so it's just me and the bright lights, (and occasionally a leotard,) and I get to booty-shaking. 

Talented or not, successful or not, I love to dance, and I love to write. Who cares about the destination anyway? I find joy in the dreaming.

I'm not gonna quit singing and dancing in my minivan when Single Ladies comes on, even though people may laugh. It might be the only time they laugh the whole day. Why on earth would I want to stop? 

I'm not gonna quit writing when the inspiration hits me either, because I write for me.

I don't need an ever after to be happy.


  1. Hi Beyonce, I'm Colbie Caillat. Or sometimes Carrie Underwood--it just depends. Just wait til your kids are teenagers and you try to explain this to them. They won't believe you.

    I don't even look at the drivers around me when I'm driving, cause I don't want to see their reaction to my song.

    Awesome, awesome post, Sheena. It's true that this life makes me happy, even without fame, fortune and fans. Thanks for the reminder.

    1. My kids are screwed when they are teenagers. I'm gonna embarrass the crap out of them. :)

      Serves them right though, for all the times they've embarrassed me.

  2. I am buying you a black leotard for your birthday, just thought I would warn you :)

    1. I'm not worried. I rock a leotard (in my head).

      Love you, Jana!

  3. Lemme just say, those other drivers don't know shizzle, because NOTHING is as great as watching a minivan-driving white lady getting her Beyonce on. Also, my kids and I have a tradition: 5 o'clock dance party. This has been going on for years, and it's basically when, at 5 o'clock each day, we pick a song, blast it from our in-house PA system, and imagine we are in something akin to a leotard while we shake our booties. Sometimes we listen to Beyonce, but a lot of the time, it's Lady Gaga. It's the best tradition ever.

    Love this post! Although this part gave me chills: "Not everyone who dreams will have their dream come true. Not everyone who dreams is good enough for it to happen." But then I felt a little better after reading this: "And you don't know which person you are, so you can't stop trying, just in case." because I won't stop trying.

    But then I thought of the auditions for So You Think You Can Dance, and wondered if I'm the not-good-enough kind when it comes to the writing world, and got the chills again. Oh, the creative life. Why must it be so wonderful, yet so torturous????

    1. You sound like my kind of people. I love sytycd, too.

      Never, never, never give up!

  4. "Same person" LOL.

    I'm not a very self-confident person. I wonder what it is that makes us worry so much about what others think. Those people on the road who see us dancing in our cars (I like to rock it to Iron and Wine, which is about as nerdy as you can get). They'll likely never see us again, so why do we stop to wonder what they think?

    Thank you so much for the reminder to dance - and write - without shame.

    1. This post was your fault, Sabrina. :) Thank you!

  5. Oh, Sheena, this spoke to me. Thank you so much for being so open. You are a writer because you cannot not write (and fwiw, you're a very talented one, to boot).

  6. I've been waiting so long for this post, and it was well worth the wait. :)

    All I can say is you totally rock. I know that isn't what you were going for, and I absolutely love your honesty and your beautiful inspiring words, but seriously, you do rock. So keep at it.


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