Gifted

Gifted :
1. Endowed with great natural ability, intelligence, or talent
2. Revealing special talent

3. Having or showing natural talent or aptitude

Have you ever been told that you are really good at something? That you have a knack or a gift for something? Have you ever felt that feeling that "yes, I'm good at this"?

As a little girl I always had dreams of what I wanted to be good at. I had these big plans for what I wanted to do and how awesome I would be at it. I can look back and laugh at most of those things because I know, I never in a million years, would ever be good at some of those things. I wanted to be an actress. Haha. I can't even stand being in a crowed room without trying to glue myself to the wall. I wanted to be an awesome Medical Examiner. *snorts of laughter erupts* I know...I know... :-)

I was in tap for a while. I can remember liking that a lot, but I seriously can't remember if I was good or not. I wanted to be the next Ginger Rogers though. It feels weird to say that...I don't know many kids my age who would even know who Ginger Rogers was. I did though. I used to stand in front of the TV and pretend I was tapping along with Fred Astaire. I'm sure it was quite a sight. That's what happens when you're an only child. You grow up watching the Black&White movies and dance along with them as if reality stopped and their world grabbed you by the hand and let you join in their contagious happiness. God, I love those old movies. I could go on and on about them, but I suppose I should try to keep my ADD in check right now. :-)

After tap ended for me it was on to piano. There I would stay for a long time. Almost fourteen years. I love listening to piano music. It's another invitation for my imagination to disappear in a world of tearful crescendos and trills that ripple across your soul. And to be honest I enjoyed playing. Piano was more of a hobby for me. I didn't love it and I never wanted to be a concert pianist. I just wanted to sit down and play...for me. Unfortunately that was something I would be rarely allowed to do. My folks loved the idea of me playing. They could see me being the great pianist. They decided this would be the career choice for me.

They even thought singing would be a greater addition to add on. I took singing lessons for a bit (I hated them!) and then was tossed into my first singing recital. Almost every recital I had ever had I would be so nervous my hands would sweat so much I needed paper towels to dry them off. This was even worse. Add sweaty palms, a racing heart, a crowd of people, and a girl who hated singing. I missed my first queue to start...a little bump I suppose...and then belted out a shortened version of "The Water Is Wide". My face was so hot I think you could have roasted a marshmallow on it. I stared at the clock the whole time while singing, bowed after it was done, then walked fast off the stage. I still had a piano piece to perform so I couldn't join the crowd so I walked in the bathroom, and made sure I was alone before collapsing into tears. I was so angry and humiliated. And to top it off the boy I had a crush on had witnessed my humiliating performance and had offered me a very pitying look as I rushed past him to the bathroom. I never took singing lessons after that. Thank God.

Anywho. Piano. My parents always said I was so gifted at it. This was what God wanted me to do. I hated hearing that. I knew what gifted was and I wasn't it. Sure...I could play the piano. A lot of people want to, but it's not that hard to learn. It takes time and the ability to read and count. That's all. Trust me. I know this people. I ended up teaching piano for six freaking years.

I once practiced for five hours straight in one day on top of the many hours that week just for a piano mid-term. I didn't get up...I didn't goof around...I just played over and over and over again. You know what my grade was? A "C". I was constantly told that I wasn't at the level I should be at. That I'd have to work harder. My life consisted of waking up, going to all my classes, eating, homework, practicing, bedtime. And yet, I wasn't good enough. I was even told by one of my piano teachers I was handicapped because of my small hands. Pieces of music were always being altered to fit my small hands. Musicians have long fingers....I have the hand size of a 10year old. At each turn in college I was reminded of what gifted was...and I wasn't it.

I kept trying to fit into a "gift" that wasn't mine. I tried...so hard...but piano wasn't my gift. It was my hobby. I'd have to wait a year after I got married to finally step out of the confines of what others thought I was good at. It would take almost two years after that to sit down and play again. Now I'm sitting here, 24 years old, and wondering what my thing is. What is my gift? What am I good at?

I don't know. I just don't know...

Is it a foolish fantasy to want to be good at something? To find what I not only love to do, but something I'm good at too? I don't want to be like one of those people on American Idol that think they are great at singing, but really are so horrible and get laughed at when they turn around. I feel like at 24, I should have some clue about what I'm good at. Something that I can look at with pride. Sometimes I feel like I've found it, but doubt creeps in and my "not good enough" lies start whispering in my ears and I begin to wonder if what I think is good maybe isn't so good.

I was never great at piano or soccer or softball or horseback riding...the list goes on... Why can't I find my niche? Have I already found it? Am I just too afraid of failure to realize I've found it? Or am I still looking? Too many questions...time to give it a break... maybe I'll bake a pie...or cupcakes...or just sit... I don't know...