Miley Cyrus

This is what shows up on our Image gallery when I type ‘Miley Cyrus’ - so it’ll have to do.

This is what shows up on our Image gallery when I type ‘Miley Cyrus’ - so it’ll have to do.

This first post of my new blog was supposed to be my presentation to the CINEMAMAS community as a female filmmaker lost in the question of whether I want to have kids and how does everyone in this career path manage having them and yet still develop a career in this vortex of an industry

I had a lot of ideas and questions that I wanted to throw out there to you guys to see if your stories could help me make this decision that has paralyzed me in a way that has never happened before in my professional career.

I had been making progress and speaking to people about my doubts and getting more and more answers along the line that “there is no right answer or magic plan” and was starting to be at peace with it.

And then this Miley Cyrus virus came along and stopped the world as we knew it.

Oh yes, Miley Cyrus… Let me explain:

A friend’s stepfather decided to name the virus and I’ve accepted it and implemented it as part of my day to day referencing to it. If I picture the virus with Hannah Montana’s wig, it doesn’t seem as scary when I’m going down the anxiety spiral.

**Note: I actually respect Miley Cyrus as an artist and a woman. So if you’re reading this real-life-Miley, I don’t think you are a virus, it’s just that the rhyme worked out perfectly.

Also, I don’t see you as Hannah Montana.

And here we are now, commencing spring and in a new reality that is yet to develop and change everything we always stood for.

I imagine this may be happening to many of you, I go through a rollercoaster of emotions on a daily basis that range from anger to hope in a matter of minutes.

For the most part, I try to stay positive and give myself small tasks to accomplish instead of looking at the overall picture. But my over-worrying and responsible nature takes me down the rabbit hole where uncertainty lives and the big black monster of “you are not a superhero” jumps off of a corner to remind me that there is not much I can do to help everyone I know in this situation.

In these cases, my husband gently asks me to talk, to put my thoughts in words and reminds me that “good enough” is ok right now. Much like my group coach says.

So here I am, with a new X added to the equation of motherhood: how do I (or we, since my partner is part of the conversation in my case) become a parent with the previous questions I had, let’s call them A and B, and now X (Miley Cyrus) as a part of it?

Love,

Aline 

**More notes: Now I’ve learnt that Miley Cyrus is cockney slang for the virus and therefore my friend’s father is not the rhyming genius I thought, but still… good story for anyone outside the London-area.