Friend Indeed

Tonight, little Roxy, my business partner, will see Dr. John backstage at the Greek Theater to further cement our plan to have him score our first picture, a thriller to be filmed in Louisiana. By mid-October, we hope to have Robert Altman committed to be the Executive Producer on our second film.
Last year, if anyone had presented either of these possibilities to me, I doubt I would have believed him. At that time, my life was as difficult as it had ever been, and part of the difficulty was my inability to believe in myself.
Then along came Roxanne, business plan in hand, with a request to look it over that turned into an offer to take it over. That offer was the beginning of a turnaround in my life, my self image and my point of view.
Big changes are always wrapped in big lessons in my life. This one was particularly effective, as the enormity of the project allowed me some mental respite. As the project moved forward, I allowed myself to consider my life circumstance, and saw that I had put myself and my own interests second to almost everything else.
Self esteem is tricky. As a child, I was taught that deference to whatever-father-was-in-the-house was crucial. Neither bonded with me, and that's probably the seed that grew into adult behavior that put others, particularly men, first. And, regardless of the size of the sacrifice, noone was either pleased or appreciative for what I did for them when I put their interests above mine. Most, in fact, were resentful, and it has destroyed some relationships.
A very expensive lesson learned.
Yesterday, Roxanne and I were gleefully talking about finally seeing some light at the end of our project tunnel yesterday, when she mentioned that her mother-in-law, who was recently widowed, was staying with them, and had completely come apart. Her kids rushed to her rescue, taking care of whatever needed to be done, and allowing her to vent and grieve as needed.
We both noted that neither of us had ever done that - we were always expected to be the givers, not takers. Both of us had been told by many people in our lives that they thought we didn't need them because we appeared to be competent to handle whatever life gave us.
Our crazy moms, who had made us act like adults long before we were ready, had given us the gift of knowing we could, and often had to, take care of business in the absence of anyone else. It became second nature.
Still, it would be nice to be a prima donna, with people scurrying around taking care of our list of outrageous demands just once in our lives. In the meantime, we have to mollycoddle a couple of guys to get our business going.