- A Question of Trust
- Intro: The Birth of a Blog
- You and Me Could Write a Bad Romance: Part I
- Bad Romance, Part II: The Couch
- Bastard Package #1
- Hallelujah
- Born This Way
- Baby Girl X
- Another Victim of Love
- True Life
- The Girls Who Went Away
- Love and Other Drugs
- 11 Things Adoptees Love to Hear
- Uh, Never Mind
- Adoptee Kid Lit
- Bastard Princess and the Search for the Holy Grail
- MYOFB
- Awkwardness
- Baby Steps
- Faith, Hope, and Catholic Charities
- Special Delivery
- Green-eyed Monster
- !@#$
- Pandora
- Fantasyland
- Adoptees You May Have Heard Of
- Big MAC Attack
- Material Girl
- VISA and Mastercard Accepted
- Don't Hold Your Breath
- Our Love is Like a Constipated Cat
- A Question of Trust
- Adoption, Hollywood Style
- All in the Family
Born This Way
I'm beautiful in my way,
‘Cause God makes no mistakes,
I'm on the right track, baby
I was born this way
DON'T HIDE YOURSELF IN REGRET
JUST LOVE YOURSELF AND YOU'RE SET
I'M ON THE RIGHT TRACK BABY
I WAS BORN THIS WAY
- Lady Gaga
(Sighing) I love her sofuckingmuch I can’t stand it and struggle to explain it. She is my muse. Her music is my mental defibrillator. My kids love her, too; even five-year-old Alex has been overheard singing “Bad Romance” in the shower (which delights me but likely makes me a prime candidate for White Trash Mom of the Year). Occasional suggestive lyrics aside, I want and need my kids to hear her positive messages. I’m totally whipped. I’ll admit that this particular reflection is mostly a non sequitur, as Lady Gaga was not, to my knowledge, adopted. However, on closer inspection, we do have a couple of things in common (stay with me here).
What could Lady Gaga (who also was born under a different name, by the way—Stefani Germanotta) possibly have to do with my adoptedness? Nothing obvious. I adore her virtuosa command of her own music, her power over an audience of thousands and the world music scene, her inhumanly amazing ass, her chameleonic beauty, her ability to make hooves look sexy, her adaptability, her ballsiness, her fierce work ethic and drive to please her fans, her self-confidence, her humility, her creativity, and her raging, balls-out talent (she drives a piano like no one I’ve ever seen, especially when she uses her feet; as a kid, I could barely play using only my hands)—in general, many of the qualities I lack. So maybe I see her as my alter ego, in a way.
In addition, although she has a public persona and media presence that are impossible to ignore and has millions of fans worldwide, Gaga also has a private, guarded side. She’s been described as lonely and very hard to get to know well in spite of her ubiquitous media presence and deep craving for friendship; I’ve heard myself described in the same way (aside from the rock star part, of course). Early in her career, she was scorned by the New York music scene that she struggled so desperately to fit into. It’s taken her years to find her true “identity.” Now that she’s determined who she is and what she was meant to do, her career has gone nuclear. I’ve also experienced some of that duality, though obviously not to those extremes. She’s also a big people-pleaser, dedicating everything she does to her fans. She’s exposed her vulnerable side, fretting about the public not liking her work and wanting her to fail. She’s been quoted by Rolling Stone as saying, “When I wake up in the morning, I feel just like any other insecure 24-year-old girl. Then I say, ‘Bitch, you’re Lady Gaga, you get up and walk the walk today’.”
I can admit, reluctantly, that I haven’t always been thrilled by her choices or her sometimes-contradictory statements about her personal history (I’m guilty of this, as well); in fact, I’ve occasionally felt downright disappointed or betrayed to some degree. For example, her long-awaited anthem Born This Way reminded me and many other folks old enough to remember it way too much of Madonna’s Express Yourself, and I think she’s far too gifted to poach. However, after withdrawing and reflecting for a while, the kids and I have been infected by its catchy beat and loving message (not to mention its astoundingly and delightfully bizarre video) and have returned to the fold. I swear that it’s playing on my girls’ radios every time I enter their rooms. Coincidence? I don’t think I believe in them anymore.
Finally, Gaga is the patron saint of freaks and geeks, self-proclaimed Empress of The Island of Misfit Souls. The Anti-Diva, she emotes kindness and fierce compassion for losers and passion for social justice, empowering women, “her gays,” and her “little monsters”—her cherished fans. She embraces, even celebrates, the bullied, the awkward, and the rejected. For that, Mother Monster, I adore you even more. But I worry about you flaming out before your time. You need to slow down, pound an occasional milkshake, and take care of yourself, sweetie, for, in the words of Hannibal Lecter, “The world is a much more interesting place with you in it.” I’ll be your 40-year-old free bitch/stay-at-home mom/girlfriend/Bastard Princess/little monster any day. Call me, babe.
‘Cause God makes no mistakes,
I'm on the right track, baby
I was born this way
DON'T HIDE YOURSELF IN REGRET
JUST LOVE YOURSELF AND YOU'RE SET
I'M ON THE RIGHT TRACK BABY
I WAS BORN THIS WAY
- Lady Gaga
(Sighing) I love her sofuckingmuch I can’t stand it and struggle to explain it. She is my muse. Her music is my mental defibrillator. My kids love her, too; even five-year-old Alex has been overheard singing “Bad Romance” in the shower (which delights me but likely makes me a prime candidate for White Trash Mom of the Year). Occasional suggestive lyrics aside, I want and need my kids to hear her positive messages. I’m totally whipped. I’ll admit that this particular reflection is mostly a non sequitur, as Lady Gaga was not, to my knowledge, adopted. However, on closer inspection, we do have a couple of things in common (stay with me here).
What could Lady Gaga (who also was born under a different name, by the way—Stefani Germanotta) possibly have to do with my adoptedness? Nothing obvious. I adore her virtuosa command of her own music, her power over an audience of thousands and the world music scene, her inhumanly amazing ass, her chameleonic beauty, her ability to make hooves look sexy, her adaptability, her ballsiness, her fierce work ethic and drive to please her fans, her self-confidence, her humility, her creativity, and her raging, balls-out talent (she drives a piano like no one I’ve ever seen, especially when she uses her feet; as a kid, I could barely play using only my hands)—in general, many of the qualities I lack. So maybe I see her as my alter ego, in a way.
In addition, although she has a public persona and media presence that are impossible to ignore and has millions of fans worldwide, Gaga also has a private, guarded side. She’s been described as lonely and very hard to get to know well in spite of her ubiquitous media presence and deep craving for friendship; I’ve heard myself described in the same way (aside from the rock star part, of course). Early in her career, she was scorned by the New York music scene that she struggled so desperately to fit into. It’s taken her years to find her true “identity.” Now that she’s determined who she is and what she was meant to do, her career has gone nuclear. I’ve also experienced some of that duality, though obviously not to those extremes. She’s also a big people-pleaser, dedicating everything she does to her fans. She’s exposed her vulnerable side, fretting about the public not liking her work and wanting her to fail. She’s been quoted by Rolling Stone as saying, “When I wake up in the morning, I feel just like any other insecure 24-year-old girl. Then I say, ‘Bitch, you’re Lady Gaga, you get up and walk the walk today’.”
I can admit, reluctantly, that I haven’t always been thrilled by her choices or her sometimes-contradictory statements about her personal history (I’m guilty of this, as well); in fact, I’ve occasionally felt downright disappointed or betrayed to some degree. For example, her long-awaited anthem Born This Way reminded me and many other folks old enough to remember it way too much of Madonna’s Express Yourself, and I think she’s far too gifted to poach. However, after withdrawing and reflecting for a while, the kids and I have been infected by its catchy beat and loving message (not to mention its astoundingly and delightfully bizarre video) and have returned to the fold. I swear that it’s playing on my girls’ radios every time I enter their rooms. Coincidence? I don’t think I believe in them anymore.
Finally, Gaga is the patron saint of freaks and geeks, self-proclaimed Empress of The Island of Misfit Souls. The Anti-Diva, she emotes kindness and fierce compassion for losers and passion for social justice, empowering women, “her gays,” and her “little monsters”—her cherished fans. She embraces, even celebrates, the bullied, the awkward, and the rejected. For that, Mother Monster, I adore you even more. But I worry about you flaming out before your time. You need to slow down, pound an occasional milkshake, and take care of yourself, sweetie, for, in the words of Hannibal Lecter, “The world is a much more interesting place with you in it.” I’ll be your 40-year-old free bitch/stay-at-home mom/girlfriend/Bastard Princess/little monster any day. Call me, babe.