I don’t even know what VMA stands for. And I don’t really care.
But this week has been overshadowed by the latest shocking event on this show. Why? Because my daughter is mortified.
My girls grew up watching Hannah Montana. They’d finish their homework, and run to the television to watch the latest show. And all of us moms were like, “How cool is this? A wholesome show, where a daughter and her dad work together. This is great!”
My daughter reminded me today that her dad, AKA Chief, did not allow her to buy the Miley Cyrus CD. She was heartbroken.
I hadn’t remembered this.
But once I recalled the situation, I think I didn’t really agree with him. I didn’t see the harm in “Nobody’s Perfect.” But he set his foot down, and I let it go.
Today, I watched “Hannah Montana” in action again, only this time I was absolutely appalled.
My girls and I watched her new video for her song, “We Can’t Stop.” We looked at one another and my oldest responded, “What happened to her?”
That’s what I’m wondering, too. What happened to her?
She’s beautiful. She used to have amazing long, flowing hair. She has a flawless voice. She has money, and fame. She was smart, and funny, with some country, down home roots.
This week, as I watched her stick her tongue out KISS-style, shaved head with hair-ears, gyrating with a foam finger, freak dancing on a married man (oh, they call it twerking now), and generally making a first-class fool of herself, my first thought was, she’s reduced herself to her crotch.
I know that’s harsh. I’m sorry.
Yep, I’m sorry for her. And her dad. And for my girls to see such a gifted girl objectify herself for shock factor, or money, or ratings. It’s really sad. Because she is really so much more than that.
My “adopted” daughter (she’s like family) posted on her Instagram yesterday the photo you see above, a quote from Audrey Hepburn: “There is more to sex appeal than just measurements. I don’t need a bedroom to prove my womanliness. I can convey just as much sex appeal, picking apples off a tree or standing in the rain…” and the comment: “This is the obvious difference between a timeless Oscar winner and a little girl in desperate need of a daddy willing to pull his baby off that stage and remind her she’s beautiful…”
I’m not bagging on Billy Ray Cyrus – I have no idea what goes on in their home, what the dynamics are, and who exactly is making the decisions for his daughter, who is only 20. I just keep thinking of Chief and his unpopular decision to ban the music. Knowing what I know now, his spidey-cop-sense was pinging back then. Little Miley has been on a downward spiral for quite a while now. He didn’t think it prudent for our young girls to listen to the boy-centered lyrics over and over and over. I didn’t catch on right away, but he was protective. It’s a cop thing. Our kids need us to protect them from the world. Sometimes they need protection from themselves. It’s a loving thing for a daddy to step in and say no – no matter what the reaction.
Never underestimate the power of a dad who protects his kids.
And ladies, never undermine the value of a dad who protects his kids.
Chief has made some decisions that our kids thought were too strict at the time. Music. Places. Clothes. Friends. He said no when it wasn’t popular. He knows that our girls are smart, and beautiful, and have value and worth, and he has told them this for years. The boys round here know they have to go through Dad to get a date. Believe it or not, they appreciate this.
When I was a little younger than Miley Cyrus, I was out of control too. For me, I had the love and support of a family at home, and a dad who loved and protected me the best he knew how. But I needed to make sure that my family’s values were to be valued. At 16, it seemed that they were more of a hindrance to my fun than protection. So I was one person at home, and a very different person at the parties. Soon, I found myself in a downward spiral. I was miserable, even a little desperate. Then, in a great crescendo of foolishness, I went completely berserk and suddenly even the bad company thought I’d gone too far.
It was enough to slap me into reality. I looked in the mirror and saw that my beauty was fading, my body was weak, and there was no light in my eyes. I left the party scene for good. I went back to church. I apologized to my parents, and to God. And my dignity was returned. Their God-inspired family values became my own.
Because our kids have parents who love them enough to cherish and set boundaries to protect them, they’ve developed an inner value and peace. When I was that wayward, self-destructive teenager, my mom was on her knees in prayer, and my father set the standards. When my actions reaped their natural consequences, their love wooed me back home. And I found peace.
My prayer is that this latest event will be what slaps Miley Cyrus into reality, and she will return to her Southern roots, return to dignity, and finally become who she was born to be. It’s never too late to go home.