I was never more inspired by a celebrity, then the years when Angelina Jolie was a single mom to her newly adopted son Maddox. She had applied for the adoption together with her then-husband, but before it came through the two separated. “We changed overnight,” she said. Although in some interviews she admits the thought of becoming a mother simply gave her a whole new perspective on things. A perspective where the man you share knife games and tattoos with might not make the ideal parent.
“Once Maddox came into my life, I knew I would never be destructive again.”
She was so worried about her son, that she took him in a baby seat to the bathroom with her when she indulged in a taking a miniature- shower.
Early 2005, still officially single but already suspected of being somewhat involved with Brad Pitt, she talks to Vanity Fair about how her life looks. She basically still sleeps and breaths with Maddox, but has acquired two lovers with whom she occasionally has sex in hotels (one at the time, although Vanity Fair does not press for details). The lovers are not invited to see her son.
“But I know if I ever saw a man be great with my child, then that would be it for me.”
After giving the interview and before the print, a photo with Brad Pitt and her son, appeared. And my infatuation for her disappeared. My idol had been the single independent woman who took full responsibility as a parent and arranged her sex life too. Luckily for me: that Angelina never fails to inspires me (more to that later), even though the real Angelina transcended to a whole new level, and started to inspire the rest of the world.
I don’t think this piece on Angelina would be complete without mentioning her choices with regard to the breast- and ovarian cancer gene. First let me say this: “Preventative” screening in general can invoke an existential crisis in all of us, which is exactly the reason I m strongly against any of them. I know this seems to be more or less a lost battle, since everyone seems to agree that it is better to know you re “sick” early so that you can do something about it, but in my humble opinion worrying about sickness is at least as damaging as the illness itself.
In Angelina’s case, she had lost her mother and her grandmother to it, so there was no way she could not think about it. She lived in constant fear of not being able to see her children grow up. So she made a decision to have preventative surgery twice, and had breasts and ovaries removed.
Again I felt quite alone in my idea that this fear based invasive solution was not something that should be cheered for. But in my quick judgement I overlooked something:
That for one person, this was exactly the right solution.
And that person was Angelina.
Just like she had once taken full responsibility for being a single mom, and for taking care of her sex life, she was now taking matters into her own hands and took full control of her health the way she knew best: by taking action.
Just do it. And within 5 hours.
For the past year my life has been much like that of the early single Jolie; it revolves around my cats, in particular the bigger one which has been non-stop sick since June last year. And just like with humans, sickness starts with thinking it will be okay, progresses to what-the-fuck is this, falls back to fatalism, spirals back up at the first hopeful sign. And then it starts all over again.
I ve currently just come out of the latest cycle, where I nearly killed my cat with two back-to-back med courses that were supposed to save his life. I gave it up and stopped the second one after five days. Now I focus on restoring his original health level.
So for a year I’ve been from home 4-5 hours max.
Since six months I can’t solve this by letting anybody else take care of them.
Since four weeks my clothes have been dirty from force feeding, my skin scratched from VET visits and I probably look grey with worry.
But every time I think I can’t go on any longer, or when I m afraid I ll accidentally choke him with the meds, or when I have to take him to the VET, I invoke my inner Angelina Jolie…
I can feel my thighs shrink to a size that does not allow for pizza Nutella.
My teeth get round and smooth, my lips grow to Hollywood stardom and I wear imaginary eyeliner and mascara (sometimes I put on real one, to make sure it works).
My hands somehow seem more elegant, and my voice is steady and motherly, when I tell him everything will be fine and that mommy knows best.
My cat is being taken care of by Angelina Jolie throughout the most difficult year of his life.
And how Angelina manages to hold up, and how she spends her me-time?
Oooooh…. you’ll figure it out 😉
Monday June 8 no Yoga with Adriene blogpost because I ll be sending out the yoga program for the summer and don’t want to overload your Inbox.
We’ll be doing in class
Day 19 Breath & Body Practice and
Day 27 Flexible Fearless and Fun