In 1982, “I Love Rock n’ Roll” was tearing up the Billboard Charts. I was 12 years old and wanted to be Joan Jett more than anything in the world.
I had a dark, angry rebellious side that I kept hidden from everyone, even my best friend. On the outside, I was a preppy good little Mormon girl. I got straight As in my Honors classes, took piano lessons, played church sports, acted in church plays and babysat for all the neighbors. I was the epitome of conservative and proper.
But on the inside, in a place I dared not share with anyone, I longed for danger, passion and rock ‘n roll. While with my friends, I listening to the Go-Gos and Olivia Newton-John. But in the privacy of my room, it was AC/DC, Scorpions, Rush and most importantly Joan Jett and the Blackhearts. She was a GIRL and she was totally KICK-ASS.
When I listened to her, I imagined myself strong, take charge, that I could do anything. No limits, no boundaries. I was powerful. Nothing was going to stop me. The world was mine.
But I was afraid. Afraid to break rules. To risk getting into trouble. Of disappointing my friends and parents. And so I played by the rules, rules setforth by my parents, church and society. I allowed myself to be molded into who the expected me. Instead of doing what my heart ached for, my spirit longed for.
I am probably one of the few people who wished I had been wilder as a kid. I was so damned obedient. Doing what everyone else wanted. Making my choices based on their expectations. Afraid to follow my own heart.
And so as I have regrets as an adult, I could more easily live with them if they were based on choices I made following my own desires. But they aren’t. They were made following rules that I didn’t believe in. And I gotta tell ya, that stings.
As I sat there today, watching The Runaways, it all came flooding back. The rebellion and passion and spirit and dreams and most of all HOPE. The hope I had back as a kid, just starting out, with my whole life in front of me.
Oh sure, I could cut my hair, wear a lot of eyeliner, get a leather jacket and learn to play guitar. But somehow teen angst just doesn’t work when you’re weeks away from turning 40 and have 5 kids. I have to accept that my rockstar dreams are over. Smoking cigarettes and running away from home just aren’t middle aged mom material. It’s not rebellion, it’s immaturity.
Keep on rockin’, Joan. For the teenage rebel in all of us! I’ve got laundry to do, lunches to prepare and kids that need stories read.
That was wonderful! I was the opposite, and can say that it isn’t always as fun as it appears! You? Rock on while making lunches!
Girl, you should have hung with the boys in the ward instead of the girls! They were all listening to AC/DC, Scorpion and FOR SURE Rush.
I was listening to my dad’s oldies station. I never was that into music, still not (sad, I know). I maybe bought 2-3 albums/tapes my entire HS career. Still only own maybe 10 CDs. Wow, now I just sound pathetic.
All my rebellion was seeing movies that I wasn’t supposed to see.
So, did you love the movie? I gotsta know!