Sometimes a role comes along that requires dramatic changes to the actor's appearance. Tom Hanks as Chuck Noland in Cast Away required huge changes in weight and hairstyles. Christian Bale as Trevor Reznik in The Machinist, Charlize Theron for Monster, Demi Moore in G.I. Jane, and Hilary Swank as Brandon Teena in Boys Don't Cry, all demonstrated the full commitment that actors will go through for that one great role they absolutely want to play.
In their commitment, we see the results of their willingness, but what we don't see is their learning. To gain weight, and lose weight; to learn how to sing or maybe box; to play guitar or a piano like a master; or to speak Italian flawlessly or ride a galloping horse - or anything else they take on to become their next character - it also teaches them about themselves. They learn that they are not immutable, inflexible, and permanent. They learn that they are adjustable, pliable, moldable, and adaptable. They learn what it feels like to not just try on a new wardrobe of personality and ability but to genuinely become that character in all ways possible.
When we become parents we are entering into a long journey of becoming what our audience needs us to be. But we are never really trained to it. I am not talking about acting and pretending, I am talking about becoming. We may have been a spoiled little brat before we conceived this little person, but continuing to live selfishly is never going to work well for the child's sake. Sure we can hold onto our "entitlement" and insist we get things to go our way, but there will always come a day when we realize it was a mistake. It might be when we are sitting alone in the oncologist's waiting room. It might be when we are staring out the window of our nursing home window, wondering why no one came today for our birthday. Or, it might be at our child's graduation when they run to embrace our ex and their new spouse, giving us only a dismissive wave as they all turn to head off to celebrate without us. Sure we can refuse to become the role, but is that ultimately what we really want? No. It's not. But we probably just don't know how pliable and adaptable we could be.
Parents face their "opportunity to become" in each moment a decision is needed. What is our true reason? What is our true motive? Who are we truly looking out for and caring about? Do we decide, as the young adult we were a few years ago, or do we decide as the giver of a wonderful future for both you and your child?
What keeps us limited, restrained, and hesitant to change? It isn't our ignorance. It isn't the fact we don't know how to sing a song at bedtime, or even how to become someone who wants to. It isn't our ignorance about the best ways to cope with a learning disorder, or how to demonstrate better manners. The core issue is our inexperience. The problem that holds us back is how little time we've spent going through the "becoming" process.
In having gone through many transformative experiences to become new characters, actors have learned that ignorance is nothing compared to unwillingness. If they have gained sixty pounds to be a snobbish dilettante, or have overcome a fear of heights to be the cat burglar, they have faced their ignorance of process and won. They have learned what it takes to look their ignorance in the eye and defeat it. When they are faced with becoming another character two years later, they are not thwarted by their ignorance of how to become what's needed for that role. They just begin learning. They know the issue isn't their ignorance. It's whether or not they are willing to do the work.
Becoming a parent is not about conception and birth. Becoming a parent happens when we feel the want within us to become what that role needs. For both mothers and fathers, there is a moment where we sense the onus of the role as it settles upon our shoulders or our hearts. It can feel heavy, like a burden. But it soon becomes a bottomless fuel tank that never allows us to quit. The willingness is there... for every parent. But the experiences of transitioning, transforming, and becoming what the role requires from us don't always appear as the great opportunities they are. They can often be seen as scary, or just one more thing to do. Is it not enough I have to give up my weekly night out with my friends, but now you're telling me I have to learn to become the person who does not resent it, and who actually prefers to stay home for bedtime reading just so my child can feel certain they are loved?
The thing about kids is they know us. They watch us and study us, and they know if we are sincere and authentic or if we are putting on a pretense. And they are harsh when it comes to either accepting or rejecting us. As teenagers... they will disown us if we are disingenuous. So, the only way to successfully become the parent they need from us is to find that new version of our loving selves and to make the transition to it. No, it isn't easy. The great actors who go the distance to do it right will all tell you, it's hard work. It isn't something we become eager to do like opening a window for a fresh breeze of air. No. It is hard work. but it truly is a labor of love and we become better for it. Better parents, better people, and better versions of our selves. And it is always worth it.
