Fate, wellbeing, my mother and Katy Perry’s Roar. Part 2.

Now I’m floating like a butterfly
Stinging like a bee I earned my stripes
I went from zero, to my own hero …

Singing along to this song on the radio I wondered if I could say that I had gone quite as far as to be my own hero.

To answer my own question I needed to assess a) what qualities do I now have, b) what qualities would “my own hero” have. Then I could match one against the other and answer the question.

It’s hard to assess your own qualities. But I remembered a recent conversation with my colleagues, in which I had been regaling them with some of the adventures my mother is having in her retirement.

Some people found it hard to imagine having a mother who converted a built-in wardrobe into an en-suite shower room/toilet, doing almost everything it was safe and legal to do herself and only calling in professionals when it was absolutely necessary.

Other people found it hard to imagine having a mother who went to a nudist beach, approached two young men and asked to borrow their kayak while they weren’t using it. I imagine they’d also find it hard to imagine that I have her permission to blog about it πŸ˜‰

I found myself explaining that my mother does her own thing, not bothering much about what anyone else thinks, as long as she’s not harming anyone. This does lead to some people telling her she can’t do things, “you can’t go off walking on your own?!” they say, “Walk with us!” But she politely declines and heads off to explore according to her own agenda. She’s very independent and when she decides to do a thing she goes off and does it. And she doesn’t believe in being told she can’t do a thing. If she wants to do it, she does it.

My colleagues laughed and said she sounded just like me.

I suppose they’re right. If I wasn’t like that I never would have got a horse, as an adult beginner with no equine support network outside of the (army of) people who are paid to support me and my horse. In the workplace I do what needs doing. I’m no longer “biting my tongue … afraid to rock the boat” like I was when I took this job. If something needs saying I don’t mind being the only one saying it, and saying it until people listen. I think I have earned my stripes and I have to admit that sometimes I have been known to sting like a bee although I try not to. But occasionally I think it’s called for and when it is, I can do it. In addition to matching the lyrics, I think this is more proof of me independently doing what I think is best, just like my mother.

So I think we’ve established that my character appears to be similar to my mother’s.

The traditional female dread of turning into one’s mother is well documented, but when I then measure up my character and hers to the original question, I am left with the suggestion that I am indeed my own hero, and therefore, so is my mother.

I reckon turning into your mother is OK if it turns out she’s actually your hero. And world, as I have now established that I have indeed gone from zero to my own hero… it appears I get to sing the chorus, so…

you’re gonna hear me roar
Louder, louder than a lion …

…you’re gonna hear me roar.


Lyrics from Katy Perry’s Roar.

Mr S. always says it’s the lyrics that make a song. In this case I think he may have a point.


5 thoughts on “Fate, wellbeing, my mother and Katy Perry’s Roar. Part 2.

  1. Your mum sounds awesome!

    Also, as a metaller, I have to disagree with your husband’s assessment that lyrics make a song. I can’t make them out in most of the music I listen to, and when I can they’re generally very, very silly. The music is great, though! It’s good to have one’s personal anthems, though – there’s nothing quite like listening to the words of a song and feeling like it’s giving a voice to the way you feel πŸ˜€

  2. The Dancing Rider says:

    Ha ha re your comment above, SG. I think it’s great to have your mom as your hero, and to feel you are turning into her! Loved the last paragraph in your entry. πŸ™‚

  3. And this one made me cry a bit. All power to you and your Mum and the fabulous Mr S of course. And Drifter. And the cats.

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