Superman's Cape

It may sound absurd...but don’t be naive

Even heroes have the right to bleed

I may be disturbed...but won’t you concede

Even heroes have the right to dream

Five For Fighting

I have spent too much time in a phone booth. And I have not been making calls. I have spent a lot of time in a phone booth changing in and out of a Superman cape. Here's the thing. As a single mother of two daughters, I made it a priority to show my girls strength, courage and resolve even during the times that I felt none of those things. I always wanted to be a strong role model to my girls, even if my marriage to their (perfect) father failed. I didn't want them to think I was weak, scared, confused. I needed to be strong. And for the past 5 years. with the help of the cape...that was the party line. Because everything is easy to do when you put on the Superman cape. And I put it on all the time. But somehow this year, they finally saw the cracks in my facade and I have to believe it helped our relationship immensely.

The girls were too young to experience the heartbreak of my divorce. N. was 5 and C. was only 1 when we split. And to top if off? My divorce was a quiet, polite one. Yes, after 15 years, G and I quietly and politely ended our marriage. No fighting. No shouting. No long trial separations. It was just over.

And from the beginning the girls and I worked hard to move past the divorce; we relocated from CA to VA (Ah, Mayberry...) to be near my friends and family, we read all of the right book "Dinosaurs Divorce", "It's Not Your Fault, Koko Bear", "Mom's House, Dad's House", we attended therapy sessions, we drew pictures to express our innermost feeling and besides all of that, we laughed, and loved and carried on. It was almost effortless.

And we seemed to have survived it.

But this past year? They experienced the pain of heartbreak first hand. They cared about the Zen-like man and not only because he had a great lake house and a fun dog (now ours...). Although it helped. They were simply used to him in our lives. And they, like me, were not prepared for it to end so suddenly. Ah, there are people out there that said I never should have introduced him to my kids in the first place. And to that I say, bullshit. Here's the thing. I dated this man for 3 months before my kids even met him. When G. lived in DC, he would have them every other weekend...and that's when I dated Zen-like man. Only when my girls were gone. I was determined to make sure it was a 'real thing' before my girls met him. But, with love, just like life there are no guarantees. Try explaining that to your 10 and 6 year olds.

At first I tried to use the cape to show my strength, to prove to the girls that if we could survive a divorce, the simple Zen-like break of February would be nothing. But it didn't work that way. For the first time, the girls saw the chink in my armor. Hurt. Sadness. Confusion. And no cape was going to change it.

But, here's the thing. I know in the beginning, the girls were surprised by my tears, my moodiness and especially, my silence because this was a side of me that was never ever revealed to them. I have always kept it together for them. Never allowing them to see the dark side. However, months after the hearbreak, I discovered something absolutely startling. I discovered that my girls still loved and respected me with or without the Superman cape. It has been quite a shock realizing that my girls can accept the fact that I am human, and definitely not a super hero.

In fact, here's a thought. Could it be possible that actually respect me MORE because of my own perceived weakness? Hmmm. It's ironic that I have always encourage them to feel sadness, if that's how they feel. I never tell them to "Stop crying", because sometimes one simply has to cry. But, until this past year, I doubt my girls ever saw me cry before.
Interesting, eh? Maybe the girls seeing the real me, all of me (tears included) helped to strengthen our relationship?

A long time ago, I dated a man who said that seeing me depressed, down or sad was like seeing Michael Jordan have an off day on the basketball court. And he continued that truthfully, no one ever wanted to pay to see Michael Jordan miss the shot. Ouch. Okay, so it wasn't long after that comment, I decided not to date him anymore...but nevertheless his comment stuck with me for a long time.

Maybe this man only wanted to see the happy, positive, cheerleader Rose. Maybe he didn't want to see the uncertain, hesitant, scared Rose. Or maybe he didn't really know me at all?

But, with my kids it had to be different. If I never allowed the girls to see any other side of me except the super hero side, then it isn't THEIR fault that they always expect perfection in the Superman cape.

So, my tears fell, I felt the pain, the dinners weren't homecooked EVERY single night...and everyone survived. In fact, some of us even thrived. Without a phone booth in sight.

"I'm only a man in a silly red sheet

Digging for kryptonite on this one way street

Only a man in a funny red sheet

Looking for special things inside of me

Inside of me

Inside me."

Five for Fighting