Notes on "The Prom"

Last week a friend invited me over to bear witness to an important rite of passage in her teenage daughter's life. Before you get uncomfortable, I'm referring, of course, to the prom. Last Friday, amid 90-degree heat, I drove to my friend's house and watched an exceptionally pretty girl transform herself into a goddess worthy of any red carpet occasion. All the months of listening to my friend's struggles to find the right dress, the right shoes, the right handbag had finally paid off. And while I enjoyed getting a glimpse of her daughter's magical evening, I couldn't help but be a little sad myself. Not so much because I'm the mother of two boys. Although let's face it, how much fun is it to stuff your sullen teenage boy into a tuxedo and push him out the door? But seriously, the reason I felt a bit melancholy was due to the tragic secret I keep hidden from my own past.

I did not go to my prom.

Now some of you reading this might just think "big deal, so what?" while others are physically recoiling in horror. I'll give you all a moment to collect yourselves.

Yes, sad to say, I did not attend my prom. And while I could make up all kinds of excuses ("I broke my leg", "my family was in Paris that week", etc) the pure and simple truth was that no one asked me.

Ouch. 28 years later and that still stings. But before the notes of Janis Ian's pathetic girl anthem "At Seventeen" start creeping in, let me clarify a few things. I enjoyed high school. I look back on it as one of the best times of my life. I had a lot of different friends: some jocks, some brains, some "burnouts", some in "the clique". And while I didn't fit into any one group, I socialized with people from all groups. So overall, I have very fond memories of high school. And yet I still brace myself whenever someone talks about their prom, knowing they will ask me about mine. Do I stay mum or disclose the sad truth?

Many of you have seen the movie "Pretty in Pink" with Molly Ringwald (Several of you who can recite its dialogue line by line…you know who you are.) At one point in the movie Annie Potts, who plays the older, wiser co-worker, talks about a friend who skipped her prom. She says, "Once in a while she gets a terrible feeling, like something is missing. She checks her purse and her keys, she counts her kids, she goes crazy. And then she realizes that... nothing is missing. She decided it was side effects from skipping the prom." Every time I see that scene I think, "My God, that's me."

And while we're on the subject, when did "The Prom" become just "Prom"? Was there some official decision to drop the article "the" and just go with "Prom"? The scene where Molly Ringwald confronts Andrew McCarthy screaming "What about prom Blaine, what about prom?" still gets under my skin. But I digress.

Not long ago, I was walking with a friend and we talked about our lives prior to husbands and kids. She told me a little about her high school experience, and then surprised me by disclosing the fact that she didn't go to her prom. I held my breath when I asked why and when she said, "No on asked me" her status immediately jumped from close friend to soul sister: A kindred spirit.

The other night when I had had my fill of watching beautiful girls in gowns pose with handsome boys in tuxes, I went home and gave my husband the re-cap. When I asked about his prom, he replied, "I didn't go". My reaction was fairly apoplectic. We've been married for over 14 years, and he waited until now to share this little nugget? When I demanded to know why he never mentioned this before he said, "It really wasn't that important". He then confessed that not one but two girls had turned him down and that's when I realized that there are worst things than not being asked.

Here's hoping everyone who attended the prom had a wonderful time, and for those who didn't...fear not. You can still live fulfilling, productive, enriching lives. Take it from someone who knows.

Oh my gosh, where are my keys?