Today was…stressful in the smallest and yet greatest of ways. God loves to touch my “money wound” and rub salt in it every once in a while. To make a very long, very emotional story as short as possible, Amira was trying to get us to bling up our newest costume so much that it would turn it into a another sequence-studded costume. But we bought this one ($250 I might add…) because it was different. We got laid off from Aladdin’s for 4 effing weeks because they were tired of us. They say we’ll be back. I know we needed new costumes and that they were tired of our choreographies. But I was working hard. I was the only one who had 2 different solos and I chose all the new audience music. I know we needed a new costume so I bought it. Then Amira bought a bunch of gold ones too. Said we needed more. Umm, we’ve only danced ONCE in our rainbow ones…So we’re learning new coreos (finally) and new solos. I still need to replace my sword, just bought a veil (expensive), and am working on 2 new solos. But now Amira wants to spend money on the gold costume, and decorating the rainbow one. I can’t do that and pay for her classes. Especially since we’re on probation at Aladdin’s and not making any money. I just can’t do it. I did the math and found that even with my students this summer, I will be $3000 short of being able to pay for this semester. And I have no scholarships I can get. I’m looking and looking but no luck. I did enter some writing contest that have cash prizes but no luck there either.
My point being: I understand Charlotte Lukas. She had no money, needed security, was reaching an “old maid” age, and needed help. I understand how women can be talked into arranged marriages. How abused wives can stay. They need that security. Money. A home. That’s all that matters. Not buying books, not writing, not dancing, not being happy…just money and security. Am I saying I’m desperate enough to just go and marry anyone my parents throw my way? No, not yet…that would mean I was dead. There’s no adventure or romance in that and THAT is what I am. To sink to that desperation is below me and signifies death. A secure death though. But would I ever do it? Yes. I would and that scares me. I am desperate. Not for a companion (sometimes that happens though) but just for security. Not wanting or fretting like this. I want to be safe. Maybe even if it means not being loved. You think that sounds crazy? I know. I wouldn’t have been saying a year ago. But I am now because of the experiences I’ve been having. I used to hate Charlotte for the choice she made. “How could she give up on love?” I’d weep dramatically. Easily, is the answer I hear in my own voice now. So easily.
