Photo Cred: Suz
Last night, my dear fellow mama friend Suz took me to see the one-and-only Queen Gaga at the Staples Center. SWOON!!! Suz’s husband gave her two tickets for Mother’s Day, to enjoy a much-deserved moms’ night out with a girlfriend. How sweet, right?! So thoughtful. Things like this earn things called husband points.
There were SO many things to love about the incredible show: wild wigs, sensational stage design, ridiculous choreography, signature Gaga get-ups, hit after hit after hit. I always forget just how many hits a major pop artist has, until I go to one of their concerts, and then I find myself strangely in tears.
But there’s one thing about the night that really stuck with me: Lady Gaga’s so very normal body. Not ripped, not emaciated, not nipped and tucked and sucked. A normal 28-year-old body in the craziest outfits. Real thighs, a legit booty, and a stomach that wasn’t a six-pack.
When she first came out, Suz and I both turned to each other and said, “She doesn’t really look that… skinny!”
I absolutely despise that this was my first impression; it’s physically painful to type. Partly because, by any average standard, the Gags is of course totally thin. But mostly, because I wasn’t noticing her astronomical vocals and unmatched theatrical giftings. I was observing her absence of abs. I was being everything wrong with this fallen world of judging beauty by airbrushed standards, by impossible thinness, by so many sad and distorted lies. Noticing is gross of me and also probably very unfeminist.
So, I’m a bad person; it’s out there. Phew! But you know what? I’m so happy I noticed, because Gaga gave me a gift last night. On a rare night out in L.A., away from my sweet baby girl, I wasn’t sitting in my seat tugging self-consciously on my romper right at my stomach, wondering if my outfit was too tight, wondering if I looked like a lame mom trying to be Forever 21, wondering for the millionth time what exactly happens to your abs during pregnancy (stretching? separating? tearing? all of the above? any doctors out there?).
Lady Gaga’s superhuman confidence in her refreshingly human body surged through the venue like a powerful sunrise. She commanded the room, and what she commanded was a call to be born this way. To remember God makes no mistakes. She said to JUST DANCE, so JUST DANCE, we did. The night felt so FREE and so FUN.
I don’t agree with every one of Gaga’s lyrics or politics or whatever. That feels irrelevant. Sister Gaga dropped some serious wisdom last night that affected me in a special way. I’ll cherish these comments:
“You don’t need to have nice abs to make a difference.”
As moms, let’s remember that our abs, soft, stretched or striated as they may be, don’t define what we have to give to our families, our friends, our communities. Also, let’s remember that the current state of our stomachs actually tells a pretty beautiful story.
“Be good to each other.”
As women, let’s not perpetuate the message thrown in our faces daily that skinnier means better, more worthy, more beautiful. Let’s lift each other up and celebrate the beauty that matters.
“Everyone do me a favor and put your phones down for a minute; let’s just be in the present?”
As people, let’s just try to do this more. It feels sad and profound to me that even LADY GAGA had to tell her audience to pay attention.
I’m preaching to myself here; just thought I’d let you eavesdrop.
Thanks, Lady Gaga, for rockin’ life “Curvy and Proud” these days. I kind of love you more than ever.
