How ABBA Became Our Family’s Transition Anthem

There are no sad songs with Mamma Mia! There’s also no plot, but that’s exactly what we love about it! Even when trying to be sad, you can’t help but dance and feel good.

And that’s fine by me. I hate the words “life transitions” so much (don’t ask me why I made it a category heading). I face them skeptically, but Mamma Mia swoops in like my knight in disco splendor to remind me everything will be okay.

Relax, Stephanie. You’ve got this!

And, oddly, what became my no-sad-songs anthem has trickled down and spread through our family like Montezuma’s revenge on a cruise ship—the Mamma Mia bug infected us all! But if we had to catch a bug, Mamma Mia transforms a common cold into a fever where pesky mosquitoes become inferno-dancing fireflies!

No Sad Songs Allowed: My Mamma Mia Origin Story

My sister-in-law started this no-sad-song craze. It must have been one of those decade birthdays that end with a zero and hit you like you’re out with the flu, and she went to see Mamma Mia! on Broadway. She came back and said she was singing and dancing in the aisles.

Good for her, I thought.

And didn’t give it another thought until I was hitting the big 5-0 and needed a pick-me-up.

I had to do something with the sinking feeling that my life was half over, or was it half full? I couldn’t even remember what I was supposed to be feeling because I was feeling so dare-I-say sad.

I hate transitions, remember? And here I had to go with a life transition, okay, I said it.

So when the girls wanted to audition for Mamma Mia, I said no way. Remember the time commitment? And who’s gonna walk the dog? But they persisted, and “Mamma Mia, “how could I resist ya?” So, I caved and said, “I’m going to be singing and dancing in the aisles if you do.”

My oldest, 16 then and ever-so-practical like her father, said, “In that case, you might as well try out.”

The rest is history. I couldn’t sing, act, or dance, but I got on that stage and did the unthinkable.

I’d have people approach me and say, “It’s so great you have this experience with your daughters.”

Meanwhile, my daughters wouldn’t have anything to do with me. It wasn’t the bonding mother-daughter experience I wanted it to be. They bonded, alright, with each other. And I was left with the eye-rolls while I tried to figure out how not to sing the lyrics with Donna. (I mean, harmony is seriously a thing?).

But it was so damn fun I didn’t care that the kids weren’t paying attention to me anymore. (They were teenagers, after all). And I didn’t care that I was 49 and had no business there.

No sad songs, remember?

While the girls had done so much theater that they didn’t know about stage fright, I was the behind-the-scenes stage mom trying to make it on stage.

But a cast member felt my anguish, or maybe I gave it away when I said, “I can’t go out there.” She turned to me and said, “My first time, I felt the same way. It’s happened to us all. You’ll be fine when you get out there.”

The rest would have been history, but the experience lit me on fire. It was so life-altering that I couldn’t help but sing to my heart’s content: no sad songs allowed!

Doing something so completely uncool. Oh, how the girls rolled their eyes at me. It became my no-sad-songs anthem, a defiant battle cry that would echo through our household in ways none of us could have imagined at the time. 

Little did we know how my insignificant moment in the ensemble would ripple through our lives, all stemming from that, err, life transition.

From Personal Challenge to Family Tradition

Singing Away Sadness: From Personal Challenge to Family Tradition

It wasn’t over yet, though. I still had to turn 50, and the best way to do that was to take a quick jaunt to London and party Mamma Mia style!

I’ll spare you the details so you can go back and read my first blog post: Mamma Mia! The Party. It’s so bad that it’s cute!

That London experience sealed the deal: Mamma Mia for life!

Though our daughters couldn’t join my husband and me in London, they were so upset they couldn’t go. (This was a sure-fire sign they’d been hooked!)

They were starting to see the world through ABBA-colored glasses.

What began as my personal midlife challenge transformed into our family’s unlikely tradition–our secret weapon against life’s inevitable changes. When things get tough, we’ve got ABBA.

No Sad Songs, Full Circle, My Youngest Becomes Tanya

My youngest was 12 when we did Mamma Mia! It brings back such memories: All The World’s A Mamma Mia Stage! Six years later, her school announced they’d be doing it again. She wanted a lead so badly, and Tanya was the perfect role for her.

After putting her heart into auditions, I nervously waited for news while traveling. When she called, her joy was palpable: “I got Tanya!”

For three performances and three shows only, I watched my daughter hobble on stage saying her line, “How much further in these stinking stilettos?” Every inch of my daughter transformed into Tanya’s diva persona. With her channel bags, floppy hat, and oversized sunglasses, I laughed, seeing my daughter transform into a middle-aged woman—I could only see myself in her.

What a contrast to the 12-year-old who had once been in the ensemble with me. Now, she owned that stage with middle-aged-veteran confidence that only a 17-year-old can muster.

When the three leads came on stage for Super Trooper, donning their silver disco space suits with 10″ platform heels, she pointed. I turned to Alex and proudly said, “She looked directly at me.” It would have been the perfect story, except she later told us she had no idea where we were sitting and “always points in that direction.” 

When she belted “Does Your Mother Know,” the irony wasn’t lost on me. Yes, her mother certainly knows—how far she’s come and how precious these moments are. She performed with such sass and attitude—it makes a mother proud!

During the finale trio—”Mamma Mia,” “Dancing Queen,” and “Waterloo”—we danced away, releasing all the emotions that had built throughout the show.

After the first show, Alexandra spotted us in our Mamma Mia gear, Alex in his tiger suit, and me in my gold lamé pants. Would she give us the eye roll?

She flashed us the biggest smile I’d seen since she got the role. Okay, I’m exaggerating here, but this is Mamma Mia we’re talking about! No plot here, and no sad songs either.

What began as my midlife anthem had come full circle. Six years ago, I was the nervous ensemble member trying to make something of myself as a middle-aged woman. She was a natural performer trying to become an adult.

But watching her transform into Tanya, Mamma Mia her own. Through college prep classes, audition jitters, and all the transitions ahead—our family had found our soundtrack. No sad songs, just ABBA’s infectious joy guiding us through life’s inevitable changes.

Finding Your Family’s “No Sad Songs” Anthem

Who am I kidding? I’m the worst one to deal with life transitions, but Mamma Mia has taught me one thing I know. Shared passions can create enduring bonds with teenagers.

My girls loved community theater, and I loved ABBA. In between the two we found Mamma Mia! And Mamma Mia has helped us find joy.

No matter what, we can always sing along to Waterloo; though I’ll never remember the steps, I’ll always find solace.

No sad songs could be anyone’s anthem, not just ours.

It’s funny to look back and realize by facing my fear; I created an ongoing legacy of how our family faces life transitions.

Heck, if Mamma Mia could make me do the impossible, what family soundtrack could make you do yours?

This is part of my ongoing Mamma Mia series. Stay tuned next week for the continuation of our ABBA adventure—plus exclusive family photos from our experiences you won’t want to miss!