Wonderful

“I don’t want to make money. I just want to be wonderful.” – Marilyn Monroe

I painted this phrase on the inner rim of a cappuccino mug so long ago. It’s my absolute favorite. I love this phrase because I believed in that idea long before I ever knew it came from Marilyn’s mind.

Since I was 7 years old, I wanted to be an actress. Not just any actress, mind you… I wanted to be a star. The brightest star in Hollywood, that was going to be me. I never could figure out where that desire came from, as I am painfully shy in real life, but all I ever wanted was to be the type of movie star that everyone wanted to see and longed to touch and had interest in listening to. Not once did I think of money or want to be rich, but I knew that movie stars were paid very large sums and were given clothes, cars, and vacations free of charge. I always felt uncomfortable around money and nice things, so this lead me to make lists of items I wanted to give my friends and family, and dream up the kind of charity or foundation I would create in loved ones names. I used to ask people “When I am rich and famous, what do you want me to buy for you?” and I remember my mom saying “A house on the beach and a horse!” and I’d imagine what her face would look like on the day I unveiled that gift to her. In school I daydreamed about making history by acting in a Steven Spielberg movie without getting paid. I envisioned reporters asking me “Why?” and my reply would be “I just want to act!”. At home, whenever I showered, I stood under the water until it turned cold, practicing my future Oscar acceptance speech. “I promised myself I wouldn’t cry…” it would always begin. I had very specific visions of my future.

I reflect on my childhood dreams (which still remain my adult dreams) during the aftermath of Michael Jackson’s death. Like most of the world, I was in shock and completely stricken by an overwhelming sadness. My generation has never experienced an iconic loss like this one. Elvis, JFK, John Lennon… now we finally understood what it feels like to lose a person we knew so well yet never met. Hundreds of memories have been dancing through my mind since hearing the news… me trying to ace the moonwalk in the school gym, setting up the old family camcorder to record my little sister and I dancing to “Rock With You”, driving around in my friends convertible as teenagers blasting “Thriller” and dancing at red lights. The first time I watched the “Thriller” video I was so scared! With a lump in my throat, I watched every second of Michael’s televised memorial service. It wasn’t until the very end that I let it all spill out… the sobs and runny nose didn’t end for almost an hour. I wept for his children, his family, the world. I wept for Michael’s life. I wept from gratitude and remorse. I wept from the pain I hold inside for loved ones lost. He gave so much to this world, and the more we took the more he just kept giving. Nothing stopped him… nothing! To me his talent was breathtaking, his drive was motivating, his entire being was inspiring. He changed the world, he made history.

I too want to impact the world. Not a few faces… the world. When I die, will nations grieve? What will be my legacy? Now I am left to wonder where the past 20 years disappeared to. That little version of me practicing her Oscar speech would never have imagined her dreams not coming true… she didn’t know the meaning of fear or self-sabotage. She was going to work with Spielberg for free! How could I let her dreams remain dreams? Alas, I’m left feeling empty and void yet can sense a fire burning under my feet. It’s time to move, to live the life I’ve imagined, to make my mark on the world. After all, I do still owe my mom that beach house…

It’s time to be wonderful.