Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman

I identify strongly with Britney Spears. Not in a show-my-hoochie-cuz-I-don’t-wear-panties way, or a crazy-behavior-for-shock-value way. I identify with her as a singer, a performer, a young girl, who is desperately trying to find her way in this world. I followed, and still follow, news stories about her closely. I read the gossip mags looking for a shred of truth, I listen to the lyrics of her songs, I buy her albums and I wonder, often, what it would be like to live her life.

Let’s lay it out in black & white:

Similarities:

• We are both in our late 20s – in fact, we’re about a year apart in age
• We are both singers (though, admittedly, she is more of a performer than songstress)
• We are both dancers (though, admittedly, I haven’t danced in years and I am nowhere near as good)
• We both married early
• We both have two children (hers boys, mine girls) around the same ages
• We both have divorced parents
• We both gained a little weight after having kids (Gasp, normal!)
• We both have our belly buttons pierced

Differences:

• Clearly, I am not a celebrity, and therefore, I don’t have the stress (and yes, fun) that comes with that
• I’m not divorced
• My mother or father are not acting as conservator of my affairs, my life
• I haven’t been married more than once
• No one has taken my children from me
• I haven’t been forcibly hospitalized
• She had a personal trainer to help her lose weight and look HAWT again

The differences seem so clear until I look more closely. What is that list, really, except a list of chance? The lines get blurred when I wonder if I were somehow catapulted to stardom at a young age, who is to say that I wouldn’t eventually crumble under the pressure, using my behavior and words to desperately reach out for help from someone, anyone? Who can say that I wouldn’t go a little bit crazy from untreated depression? I’ve been there, depressed, horribly depressed. My family helped me. What if my family weren’t so aware of my depression? What if I were surrounded by an environment where it was not OK to be depressed, to have issues, to need help? What if?

When I look at stories of her from two, three years ago or more, I just see a scared little girl. I see someone screaming for help and I see the world capitalizing on it, ignoring the real message, judging. I want to scream at them – what if it was your friend? Your daughter? Your mother? Would you just sit back and watch or would you do something?

I look at her now and I see someone who, having received the help she needed, has gotten back on track. Who has accomplished more in her young life than I will likely ever accomplish. Who has gone through hell and back and who will hopefully be a better person for that experience. I see someone who needed family and friends to lean on.

That’s not so different than I. That’s not so different than any of us.

I’m sure it’s not just me. Who do you identify with?