It is so weird how at different times in life, you can end up at exact opposite ends of the same situation.

That probably made no sense. Allow me to explain.

Maybe two years ago, I was supposed to be doing this solo with the choir I sing with. I mean, it was a sweet solo; the first one I actually requested (all the others I just sorta get asked to do). I was totally excited about it, it was such a sweet song. Long story short, I ended up having to share the solo with this other woman who was, by far, much better at it than I was. At least, I thought she was. I remember singing the song during the first service and then finding out, just before we're supposed to sing it second service, that this other person was going to do it. The director never said anything to me. It totally broke my heart.

Well, that and my pride.

I remember hiding out in the bathroom and bawling about it. It seems almost silly writing it out, but I had come off the stage, hearing everyone give the other woman endless accolades and I felt like crap.

This morning, I was the other woman.

This is the second solo I've ever requested. It's rather close to me 'cause I'd done it with another choir when I was younger; we did it when we played Detroit, so I was totally looking forward to doing it again. Well, I've gotten to do a lot of singing recently, so they decided to let this other girl do the song first time through. She did a nice was a little high for her, but she's young and has plenty of time to further develop her range. Before second time through, the director asked me to do the second service.

He neglected to tell the other girl, though.

So there I am, standing beside her, and she's already grabbed the microphone, thinking she's going to do it again. And I'm there without my robe on (usually, the soloist doesn't wear a robe...I think that started in an effort to escape the hideous things at any excuse). At this point, I have no idea what to say to her. We're on stage, for crying out loud, and it was obvious she didn't know. I considered just letting her do it anyway, just to avoid having to tell her. She looks over at me and asks if I'm singing the solo. Of course, I'm apologetic, since the person who should have told her kindly left it to me to do it. She took it well.

To boot, I'd never sung the song better than I did this morning.

We exited the stage, the accolades began, and I wanted nothing but for them to stop, because I knew how it would make her feel, how she would probably cry on the way home, doubting her ability, feeling like garbage. And she really shouldn't, because she's great.

Grr. Neither side of this coin is that marvelous, I must say.