Apparently, sex is The Great Catalyst for having the mother of all introspective conversations
Mohegan and I... well, let's just say we had a VERY good night last night
. So, after we have collapsed beside each other, she askes me if I'm OK with the fact that it may take a long while for her to get the extra weight off.
I smell a trap
Generally, Mohegan does not "ask" things like this, she explains the realities of the situation she is currently in. However , this week has been kinda bad for her, due to injuring her chronically-damaged knee. This led to a near giving-up on weight loss, at least in her brain, and then, after bingeing on cookies she made for me, she got herself nominally together.
I explained to her that we need to treat her knee and ankle like the chronically damaged body parts that they are.... that they would never be the same again, because of what Ballet had done to her body....
.... and she just went to pieces on me.
So, it turns out that she's been carrying this dream of being a choreographer for broadway since she was like, 13. She never told me, not once. She kinda knew that it would never happen, but still held onto it. And I, not knowing any better, shoved reality right down her throat.
I kinda understand why she never told me about it. I've said for years that (gods forbid) if I have daughters, they will NEVER do Ballet. Other dance, sure. Sports, school band, drama club, martial arts, that's all good. But I have NEVER seen something as completely destructive, both physically and emotionally, and Ballet. There is no respect for the dancer at all. Between stories from her about her instructors stepping on her knees so she would have the 'perfect silohette', to stories from my GF (another Ballet daner) about how one of the girls she danced with put shards of broken glass in the toe shoes of another girl to destroy her career, simply because she danced better..... no, No, HELL NO, my daughters will not do that. I'd much rather they get a broken nose in some martial arts class, or become cheerleaders (gag, but if that's what they want...), or whatever.
Yeah, with an outlook like that, no wonder she never told me about her dream, right?
So, I'm left with this accidentally broken Mohegan, lots of Mohegan tears, and a whole lot of guilt for, as I percieve it, causing this by shoving reality down her throat.
But, as we slowly started putting things together and picking up the pieces, it turned out to be one of the best - and most needed - conversations we've ever had. We got to analyse all sorts of things about each other. I'm glad we had sex BEFORE the three hours of deep, deep mutual self analysis, but I'm also really glad we spent the next three hours in conversation. We unburied a lot of things. Now we get to work on setting them right.
But, the first step to fixing something is knowing that it's broken, right? One step at a time