After the disastrous ending of my friendship et al with the N pastor, I evaluated some things and made some decisions. (Bear with me on this...)
The first one was that from now on, I will take myself seriously. I have never, ever done that in my life. Ever!
I think that will resolve some issues of entitlement for me, and probably some others as well. And if I don't take myself seriously, who else will?
Reading Drama of the Gifted Child, and Dr. G's essay on voicelessness, helped me understand how much I've accommodated myself to others. "Drama" helped me go waaaaaaaay back and realize that it started from early on. My parents expected me to conform to their needs, and never give me real choices about what I wanted. This included almost all my interests, except for reading.
So, in the context of feeling so empty (which made room for the N to invade my space, so to speak) and trying to move forward, I made a list of the things that I knew myself to be interested in, and want.
It was very short, maybe three things.
One of them was taking voice lessons. I was an instrumental major in college, didn't sing there but began singing in earnest in my church choir under a very talented director (for 30+ years). During the past few years he paid me to be section head because he couldn't find a professional alto. (We have paid soloists/section heads, but I don't do solos!! Never!!!) I think it was also to help me out while I was out of work and then struggling in a low-payin job. In any case, it was a shock to me, and seemed quite funny, because the voice teacher in college was horrible to me. (We had to take a minimum skills class to teach.) No way have I ever thought of myself as a singer.
I had my first lesson on Saturday.
It sort of freaked me out. There I was, singing in front of someone (I have never willingly sung before someone, just in our section or quartet. I must be part of a group!!) I had to open my mouth and sing. Talk about speaking (singing) up!!
Then it just became strange. Singing properly is very physical, in a way I hadn't known. It involves really getting in touch with your body in a myriad of ways. (And having a pixie of a teacher who's a former ballerina doesn't help with confidence! She's very nice, though.) So not only did I have to stop being shy and sing in front of her, I also had to get in touch with my body, which I'm not used to doing in that way.
As we progressed through the lesson and started to find a bigger (more resonant, projects more) voice, I was having real problems, mentally. I had to struggle to give myself permission to develop a real, mature, voice that can be heard and projects. (Okay, it's going to take some time, but she was delightful and said we can get so much more out!)
I never expected to have to confront myself about wanting to sing better, or with a bigger voice. What a surprise. It's going to take genuine courage for me to step up and let others hear that voice. I'm so used to being hidden and hiding myself in all areas of life, including this.
It's really great to have a music director who hears something in you, and has that kind of faith in your ability. (I don't question the musicianship part, just the vocal part.) AND, he was the one who stood up for me about 1,000% during the harassment hearing, so it is triply great. Also nice to have fellow altos who have always been so supportive of my singing. (Really, I thought I sang off-key all these years.)
And I have to say, I know this was something the N pastor really enjoyed about me. He used to do the funniest little thing when we sang (he sang in our choir, has a really nice voice). He used to stand near me when he could, and then he would always sort of turn toward me, or lean into me (hard to describe), and listen. Okay, he's a bad man, but he did a lot of sweet things like this in his craziness, and this was one of the ones that I particularly liked.
I also got to thinking over the weekend, perhaps because of this -- I wonder why it was so important to my parents that I major in music. They were so odd (typically) -- they pressed me really hard, it seemed like the only option they gave me. I rebelled and then they gave in and stopped the pressure (I think, thinking that if they backed off I would come around). Then when I decided to go into music (surprise, surprise), they took away my support. Just when I needed lessons for college auditions, they stopped them. (Strange...) This is what I mean when I say they took things away from me, especially if I was successful.
I just wondered why it was so important to them that I went into music. My sister was already a music ed major, so it's not like they needed a music teacher in the family.
I can see why they would encourage music lessons, etc., but to major in it is a whole different ballgame. It was the "approved" career path (education only, not being a pro). Believe me, it's not because I had any native talent. I'm a good musician today because of lots of education, but it's not because I'm a natural musician. I know that, it's very obvious when I listen to my real musician friends.
I didn't even have a choice about what instrument to play. I was told I would play french horn, and that was it. It wasn't what I wanted to play, I never really liked it until I got out of college and studied with a prominent professional.
Anyway, this all came as a surprise. I never expected to encounter a "voiceless" issue of this kind. It's going to be a growth thing to step up and allow myself to sing out and sing with a very mature, womanly voice. (Not that I sang with a little girl's voice, but when you hit your real voice it's very mature and ... womanly.)
All a very interesting little nest of things.