Tag: theater

“Die, Vampires.”

Has anyone ever been tormented in their head by the things others have said about you?

Actually, you know what, that is a ridiculous question.

EVERYONE HAS BEEN TORMENTED BY THE THINGS OTHERS HAVE SAID ABOUT THEM. 

We all have had this experience, even if it was back in the third grade, when Johnny called you a stupid-face and told you to eat dirt. Johnny was an a- hole. I really hope you didn’t eat dirt… I would have been the kid that ate the dirt in silence, not told an adult, and then cried about it at home. But I digress….

Anyway, this really got me thinking about the narrative we have in our heads when our tormentors, bullies, relatives, coaches, etc., tell us things that are completely detrimental to our well-being. We may not be able to control what people say or do to us, but we have 100% responsibility for the way we react to it, and how it controls our behavior in the future.

Unfortunately, I have been a pushover most of my life. I’m still grappling with the terrible things that have been said to me. But recently, I got an idea. I read in a book that if you can imagine yourself achieving a goal as vividly as possible, you’re WAY more likely to achieve it in your life. So I thought, maybe that could work the other way around as well. Maybe I could replace my responses to the jerks with something else, something I wish I had said, and that can make me stronger now.

So lately, I’ve decided to change my narrative. Entirely through the use of imagination (yay Theater Degree!) I’m working on replacing my memory with something the a stronger, older, wiser me would say the the A-holes.

 

The following is a list of things things that have been said to me in my past, how I responded then, and the new narrative I am now using so I can move the eff on with my life.

Hater: “You’re too fat for the standards of this performance group.”  

Old Me: “Yeah I know, but it’s fine I’ll just be in the back where I can sing. I’m good at singing anyway, I’m not here because I’m good-looking.

New Me: “Hey! F*CK you! I made it just as well as anyone else. Also, I’m a beautiful, talented goddess, and my body is not your business.”

 

Hater: “I’m cutting you from this dance. You look like a horse.” 

Old Me: Continues to rehearse in silence until the tears pour out of my face uncontrollably.

New Me:  “You know, it takes a really specific kind of person to look a twelve-year-old in the eyes and compare them to a barn animal. Although, horses are majestic! So I guess that means I’m majestic! Would you like to do something else in this scene? Or can I call my mom and go home?”

 

Hater: “Do you think you could lose ten pounds before opening night? None of these costumes fit you.”

Old Me: (Awkward laughter) ” I’m sorry. I could try? ”

New Me: “I hear crash diets are really unhealthy, especially for fifth graders. So, should I put your name down for being held responsible for my early onset anorexic tendencies? I’ll just give you my therapist’s address and you can write her a check directly.”

 

Hater: “Your body is fine, it could just be… you know… firmer. More toned.” 

Old Me: Oh yeah, I agree. That’s why I’ve been trying to lift weights and eat more lean protein. Firmer definitely is better.

New Me: Continuing to eat cake. We’re breaking up.

 

 

Hater: Good luck trying to find someone who loves you as much as I do. You’re a lot to handle and I doubt anyone else will understand how to deal with you. 

Old me: Cries.

New Me: Those two sentences make absolutely NO sense! And my worth is not defined by whether or not a boyfriend can “handle” me. I can handle myself, thank you very much! Giggity!

 

 

Hater: Ugh, you’re so irresponsible and dreamy. Why can’t you pay attention and be smart?  

Old me: I don’t know. I guess my mind wanders too much. I’m sorry.

New Me: I’m a creative person and I’m very smart about a lot of things. My intelligence is defined differently than yours, and maybe you would realize that if you actually attempted to listen to me once in a while.

 

 

Hater: Your involvement in the Theater Arts is making you vulnerable to Satan. You’re doing the work of the Devil and you don’t even know it. That’s why you’re not happy, and you never will be until you change your ways. 

Old Me: Frantically searches the Bible for answers, prays to God to take away my passions and to change my heart to love more “Godly” things.  

New Me: You’re insane. If you don’t have respect for my passions, then you don’t respect me. We’re breaking up.

 

 

 

You guys, don’t get me wrong. The experiences in our past that sucked make us who we are. They are a part of ourselves that give us the fuel to live out our passions and connect to others. But if the a-holes in your past are holding you back from anything in your present, try to change the narrative and see what happens.

 

xoxox

 

 

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A Note of Gratitude

Forgive me as the words spill out of me like the tears I can’t hold back. The past two days have been filled to the brim with reasons to cry, and I have. A younger me would have judged myself for the blubbering I’ve done over the past months, but forget it.

I am a different person now than I was before. Cells have been recreated, I have been hugged more, loved more, given more, offered more breaths of life to keep living and keep loving.

Why was I given more days to experience so much life, and breath, and beauty, when those not so far from my home, my community were not spared?

They wanted a night on the town– no different from my brothers and sisters right here in beautiful Long Beach. Long Beach, a place in which I have learned to become a better version of myself– my mind, and heart, and soul has been expanded because of this place that I chose on a whim, chasing after a boy.

But I look around me and I see how goddamn lucky I was to have followed that boy that broke my heart and tore me apart to a shell of a human so that I not only could rebuild, but so that I could be so closely connected to these beautiful people around me every single glorious day.

Everything is a gift.

Everyone of you is a gift to me.

Readers, friends, those who I will never meet– the vibrations of you matter more than I could ever comprehend.

 

And then, I am over here, experiencing what it feels like to be congratulated by my loved ones to put one foot in front of the other for three hours.

That’s not hard.

Sweating for pleasure is not hard.

Watching your community break down and cry is hard.

Watching your people argue over the definition of love and equality is hard.

Watching your friends feel pain and anguish over the fact that their neighbors might see them as less than any other human is hard.

Watching your people lose all faith in your country is hard.

Going for a long run is NOT HARD.

It was merely a lesson. A lesson that when we put limitations on what we are capable of doing, we can never change. It was a lesson that dedication and hard work can reap incredible results if you just don’t fucking give up.

We can’t give up on ourselves, and I know for a fact, that my brothers and sisters are so much stronger than I am on my own.

They have proven it to me over and over and over and over again and have given me a reason to run in the first place.

 

And although running is not hard, music is not hard, dance is not hard, and art is not hard — at least not in the way this ridiculous fight is hard,

I will run longer, sing more beautifully, dance with less conviction, and create with as much fucking purpose as I have in my tiny little human form because it’s everything I’ve got.

And if our steps, our struggle, our creation, our breath gives us a reason to celebrate who we are, then GOD DAMNIT we better do it.

Because that’s love.

I don’t care who you are, love is love, and we have the power to choose LOVE over hate and separation every day.

Every day we live is a chance to choose kindness and passion and love.

 

Thank you for inspiring me to run, sing, play, and create.

But more than anything,thank you for inspiring me to love greater than I ever thought possible.

 

 

Here’s a Post with a Whole Lot of CAPS

Hi.

So here’s something about me. I have a degree in Theater. I’m a performer before anything. I sing, I try to tell jokes, and I do musicals. Now, get ready for some news that I’m sure no one knows……

THIS IS NOT A WAY TO MAKE A LIVING.

I mean, it can be… but you have to have the right look, the right talent, the right agent, the right connections, and be in the right place/ right time CONSTANTLY. I’m going to be real with you for a second… I DONT HAVE THAT KIND OF STAMINA OR SUPPORT TO MAKE THAT HAPPEN. I’m sensitive, and frankly I like a lot of other things. I could never focus on my writing, my running habit, or my friends/ family if I was living the Broadway actor life 24/7. I’d love it if an audition really worked out and I got a great job out of it. But I’m not going to break my back and heart day in and day out praying that something will work out when there are ten thousand other girls just like me doing the same damn thing. I’m just going to keep doing what I’m doing, audition when it’s right, take amazing classes, go to shows, meet new people, and hopefully continue to make American dollars in places that I love.

So, in the meantime, I just need a job (or jobs) that make me happy and pay my bills. I’m about halfway there with that one. (Happiness? Check. Pays the bills? Almost check.)  So, I have to have what I like to call “A Patchwork of Jobs” in order to kinda sorta survive. There was a time in my life when I had six jobs at once. (200 dollars here, 350 dollars there…) I was able to make it work for a year, but I couldn’t do it after that. It was exhausting and I couldn’t enjoy my life because I was too tired.

So…. something that happens frequently is the fluctuation of jobs. In my position, i HAVE to take opportunities for employment. I HAVE to say yes to the things that will give me the most in return– the most money, the best time slot, the most benefits (financial or otherwise). And sometimes I have to turn things down and/or switch things up. A lot of employers in this industry understand this. (Thank you to my amazing bosses who have stuck with me and my schedule for a while now. You know who you are) But some of them… HOLY CRAP they will have NOTHING TO DO with those schedule changes.

Today I was yelled at (via email) and was called unprofessional for regretfully stating that I would not be able to fulfill my duties in a previously accepted position. I was apologetic and honest. I potentially have something else in the works that will pay me way more, plus, I don’t want to suddenly find myself with six jobs again. Having that many plates spinning is TERRIBLE and makes me USELESS as an employee because I’m TIRED and SICK constantly. Mind you, I hand’t even signed any paperwork yet with this potential employer. I have had ONE MEETING with this person, in which they hired me WITHOUT EVEN LOOKING AT MY RESUME. I have NOT started this job yet and did not want to have to suddenly quit after already starting my duties. So I thought I did the responsible thing by apologizing, and stating that I won’t be able to do this job.

The beginning of the reply from this employer was an all-caps “ARE YOU KIDDING ME???” followed by a description of my lack of tact.

Wow.

Now, obviously I dodged a bullet here in not working with this person… but the voices in my head are still creeping up.

“You’re so unreliable.”

“Stop making promises you can’t keep.” 

“You’re incredibly irresponsible and unprofessional.” 

“This is why you can’t make it in this business. You’re too flighty.” 

“Just get used to being broke and messing up people’s lives. This is who you are.” 

SHUT UP SAD DRAGON! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!

I am desperately trying to realize that this is a reflection on someone else. As an employer, this person should understand. There is nothing this person can do to change the situation, so what good does it do anyone to yell at me via email? Obviously this person simply wants to make me feel like s*** before she carries on with her day. That’s the only result possible from this. Even if they are disappointed and pissed off (and they’re totally allowed to be!) isn’t the right thing to do to just say “Thank you” and move on?  That’s what I’m trying to tell myself, but it’s still difficult. Very difficult.

Just wanted to share because fighting the Dragon is a never ending process. You can’t kill it. You just have to keep training it.

The Day I Got to Slay a Dragon

The Day I Got to Slay a Dragon
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Every once in a while I truly feel like God, the Universe, Destiny, the Higher Power (whatever it is you prefer to call it) taps me on the shoulder and says “Hello.” This story we performed at work made me pause, for obvious reasons.
I work for a children’s theater company that takes story submissions from schools, and then surprises the authors by bringing their stories to life. It’s a really fun, creative job. And I get to play a myriad of different characters in a single day!
Now, the fact that I got to play the girl, and not the dragon was magical indeed. I’m tall. I have long, lanky limbs, and a big loud voice. Thus, I usually have to play the dragon. But on this day I got to be the little girl. Mia. The Dragon Slayer. Yes, I was performing for a bunch of little kids. Yes, it was really silly as I pretended to shove an imaginary sword through my scene partner while he pretended to light the city on fire.
But, damn, did I feel like a badass playing that character.
My favorite part of this child’s story is:
“She got her armor on and went to slay the dragon. She tried but she knew she couldn’t do it. Although she knew that if she didn’t it would terrorize the city.”
It’s quite a no-brainer concept, but it speaks volumes to me and the story I’m attempting to write for my life.
“Then, she said to herself ‘I can’t let that happen’ so she didn’t give up.” 
SHE DIDNT GIVE UP. 
Even this little eight-year-old girl gets it! She understands in her sweet, young mind, that we have to do something to stand up to evil when no one else is willing to stand up! She understands that it’s ok for us to have doubts about our abilities. She understands that we need to stop self-doubting because others need us to put on our amor. Or our big girl pants. And she understands that when we fight, incredible results will come from them.
It’s amazing to me how much we innately understand about ourselves when we are young, and yet as we get older, we get affected by the world and start overcomplicating our lives.
We give up on relationships.
We get lazy.
We stop imagining.
We stop believing in the vibrancy of existence.
We give up.
When I was a little girl, I remember putting on dresses, prancing around my living room, and feeling like the most gorgeous creature on the planet. I dreamed of being strong and of running free in open meadows. And then I became a teenager, and got angry, and got interested in boys, and started caring about what other people thought of me, instead of living my own damn life. I chose not to fight the dragons of my city anymore, because it was more important to impress boys, or impress teachers, or impress parents. Life was about proving a point, rather than fighting for what truly mattered.
Stupid dragons trying to mess up my village for me.
I just don’t have the patience for that crap anymore.
I encourage everyone to think like they did when they were young. Spend some time thinking about what your life might look like if you un-learn all of the crap and self-hatred and dejectedness.
Even when things get ugly and stupid, DONT GIVE UP.
It’s one thing when the Dragon is terrorizing you. But when it goes rogue, you better put your armor on and fight that thing.
You never know who is depending on you.
Until next time, friends!