Some years ago I had this dream. Like a flash. I was standing in a large room, a space. At the center surrounded by people. In my arms big bouquets of flower. Everything was swirling, like TV cameras circling around me. Colors, colors everywhere, all light was on me, and I was thinking: was this where I was heading? Was this how it was meant? Was this how everything would fall into place and be okay?
I had won the Eurovision Song Contest. Not as a singer, but as a composer. Yeah, this is a pretty embarrassing dream, but I came to think about it last night.
My mother put me on stage at an early age, singing. I remember it as scary and uncomfortable, it wasn’t my choice. In my teens I taught myself how to play the guitar and I became a singer-songwriter girl. I brought my guitar everywhere. It became a part of me. Come to think of it, this might have been when my teddy bear stopped sleeping in my bed. My guitar became a new best friend, a body to hold next to mine, singing with me. I became Mia (short for Maria) with the guitar. It was my identity.
I was 14-15 years old when people commented on me in terms of “I hope it’s not going to happen too fast. Too fast can be a dangerous thing and ruin you”. They were referring to my break through as an artist.
I am shaking my head here. It seems so absurd. And so far away. Was that me? But it was. A tall skinny girl, scared and utterly insecure about herself and life. Safe and complete only when holding her guitar, letting her voice out, an audience listening. “I hope it is not going to happen to fast”.
Well, it didn’t happen. My teenage years passed and Mia with the guitar died away. I can’t put a finger on why really, but I think I eventually perceived myself too old for it. It wasn’t charming anymore. I wasn’t charming anymore. And I devoted my musical life to choral singing.
Now, this is where this story turns really embarrassing. Sad even. I am still waiting for that break through. Not as a singer or an artist. And not on a conscious level. But at the core of me there is always that feeling of…I don’t know how to express it, not even in Swedish. The desire and anticipation of a break through in any of my fields, that would take care of my nonexistent self-esteem, strengthen my self-confidence, give me an identity and fix my troubled finances. Show the world who I am and that I am here. Make me visible. Coming out.
I asked her, at the end of her life. She was suffering from dementia and was generally foggy but I still needed to ask her, my mother. Why she did those things. Put me at the front of the stage. Forced me to take piano lessons and voice coaching. Her answer was very clear: “Because you were supposed to become something big.”
I was startled. I had no idea that was her agenda. But that explained a lot.
Through my life I have had very high expectations on myself. And although I sometimes accomplish tasks almost to perfection I always find reasons to doubt myself. A Seattle friend once said “Maria, I keep forgetting you are an overachiever who thinks you are an underachiever”.
I often feel like I am still fourteen. I feel like I never grew up. Like everyone around me did, but I am still there. Even the generation coming after me are grown ups. But I am fourteen. I am thinking now as I am writing, might it be when the break through people around me set me up for didn’t happen, something in me stopped? And I am still there.
So, what happened last night? There was this concert in Skelleftå, a town two hours north of Umeå. A choir of 1000 singers. The soul singer LaGaylia Frazier and guitarist and ballad singer Göran Fristorp. It’s been in my calendar all this winter for a very special reason. The choir was going to sing one of my songs. I knew the chances were slim that I could make it and be a part of it, but I wanted it badly.
I have had some better days the last couple of weeks though, so maybe? But who could take me there? I asked around with no luck, but then it turned out my sister had an open spot on a Saturday evening and was happy to go with me!
Waking up yesterday morning I realized it wasn’t one of my better days. It was a really bad day. But my mind was set, it was just doing it. And we did.
I have had an emotional week. And I managed to get myself to the concert. Sitting among thousands (3000 in the audience) of people at the hockey arena listening to the most beautiful music and lyrics of different genres was overwhelming. Songs from the past and those being new to me plunged into my heart, I couldn’t hide and I fought my tears most of the evening.
But then there was this moment. Like a flash.
My song had been sung by 1000 singers. Låta livet. Let Life. I tried so hard being present taking it all in, I felt kind of numb. And then, unexpectedly, the composer was asked to stand up. I managed to get up from my seat, on instruction waiving for the big spotlight searching the arena to find me. Circling. And there it was. Flash! Hit my eyes! Flash! Hit me! Flash! I was surrounded by that yellow warm light, crossing my hands on my chest as a thank you and throwing kisses at a thousand singers in joy and gratitude. It happened so quickly and went by so fast, I don’t remember, but I guess 4000 people applauded on me and my song while all light was on me, while I was lit up. Like a flash! Like in that dream.
In the car later heading back to Umeå with my sister, we turned on the radio. Listening to the Eurovision Song Contest on air.
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