Fact: I don't like blogging when I'm in a funk. True, I have done it several times before, and I have learned that while it does give me a little lighter perspective on things, I still feel like a whining ninny. And no one likes a whining ninny.
So I'm going to try to approach and express my thoughts in a very adult-like manner, in hopes that I will - as is always the case - find some sense of resolve deep down.
This will be a very upfront post, I'm warning you now. This topic is something that I avoid more often than not, mostly because it really is a mystery to me. I've blogged along the lines before (a year ago, in fact) and maybe it's time to do it again, because I obviously haven't worked out the kinks in understanding it just yet.
Let's take a look at my past. I'm almost 26 years old. I've had one relationship that I consider serious, and that was when I was 17 and 18 years old. There have been a handful of guys that I've kissed, that I've hung around for a week or so and then watched as things fizzled off into nothing. Most of it hasn't really meant anything, to me or to the male side of the party, sadly. I've had crushes, but the feelings aren't reciprocated, so naturally those don't go anywhere. This whole thing is really starting to give me a complex.
For the past little
while, a terrible question has been weighing on my mind, one that really
hasn't haunted me for a long time: what is wrong with me? As I typed
that, tears brimmed my eyes. That's the first time the question has
really come out in any physical form.
If you had asked me two years ago why I don't date, why I get so little attention from men, I would have told you that my self-esteem was too low, that I didn't love myself, that I was overweight, that I was ugly, and on and on.
But today, I sit here loving myself for who I have become, with healthy self-esteem (except for today, maybe), slender, and yes, even pretty. I'm a smart girl, I'm passionate, I'm happy, uncomplicated, well-groomed, put-together, ambitious; I take care of myself physically and emotionally; I'm not horribly clingy or overly needy, and I know what I want in my life; sometimes, I'm even quirky, spunky, and funny.
Before someone grabs a pin to pop the growing head in the room, I'll ask the question again: what on Earth is wrong with little ol' me?
...
Did you know that these posts sometimes take up to four hours for me to write? I started this in a text document at 10:00 this morning and finished that section above by 11:15. It is now 12:42. Less than 500 words in almost three hours.
My point of telling you that is this: I've sat here contemplating what I could say to make this all better. I suppose I've decided that it comes down to a few things.
1) I don't really "go out." I have friends that I spend time with, but I don't really go out to meet new people. The idea of finding a "hot spot" to "hang out" is not appealing to me. I want him to just fall right into my lap. I also don't flirt; I'm not sure I even know HOW.
2) I have high expectations. My sister said to me once, in a light-hearted conversation about this post's topic, "You won't just have anybody. He has to be a winner." Of course everyone wants a "winner," but I realize that I am expecting instant connection, love at first sight, and years of bonding made in mere moments.
3) The business I am in. I connect with many men everyday in theatre, but it's a fact that the picking pool isn't in my favor in regards to the majority's sexual orientation. I am not condemning it in the least bit, just stating the fact.
4) I am 25 years old. In the online UK news website, The Telegraph, I found an article: Average age for women to marry hits 30 for first time. I live in Utah, where the median age for women to marry is 21.9 years old. In almost half of the United States, it's "normal" to marry 25-plus, and in New York, it's "normal" for women to marry at 27.
Finally and most importantly...
5) There is nothing wrong with me. My self-worth isn't measured in how many dates I go on or how long a relationship is. It is measured by my character, my ethics and morals, how I treat people, how happy I choose to be, how hard I work, how much I smile and laugh and even cry, how patient and honest I am and choose to be, and how much I love my life and love the people in it.
When I was little, my mom used to say, "No one can make you do anything." And while I do agree with that statement, I also feel that things and people can certainly influence our feelings and choices. Something in my life is influencing me to feel inferior, to feel like something is wrong with me, to feel like I couldn't possibly find love.
It's my job to stop allowing that something to influence me in such a strong way, and even to weed it out and get rid of it. It's my job to keep loving my life and the skin I live in. It's my job to just be a good person. What matters most, what's most important, is how you see yourself.
It's not normal for me to write about religious things on here, no. I like to avoid too much expression of spiritual and political opinions in order to avoid debate. I know where I stand on matters, and that is what is important. But I couldn't help sharing this.
Remember in my last post when I talked about the benefit concert that I was so blessed to be a part of? This video is of some of the children being remembered at that concert. I feel like it's more than appropriate to be sharing this today, on Easter, because even through such heartbreak as a family losing a loved one, we can be strengthened. Days like today remind us of the immense love that our Heavenly Father has for us through the birth, death, and resurrection of His son. (Even my sweet nephew can be seen in this video, around 2:27.)
Before I get into anything too finicky to chew on, I wanted to share a little something with you. I should've logged on and blogged about it before the actual event occurred, but I suppose late is better than never. Last Thursday night, I was very honored to sing at the second annual A Good Grief Benefit Concert. I've talked about her before, but I just can't say enough. My friend, Molly, founded A Good Grief Foundation and has headed the concert the last two years. She is an incredible woman who has endured so much with such grace and strength. It was an evening that, much like last year's, was entertaining yet spiritual. The proceeds went directly to help pay for the cost of headstones for families burdened with the emotional and financial weight of losing a child. I imagine the event will continue for years to come, so if you are around, take the night off to go. I promise it's an evening you will remember. And if I'm a part of it next year, I'll be sure to remember to post about it on here.
Now then...
I'm a little sad with myself that it's taken me more than a month and a half to post again. It's been an interesting little while, to say the least. Truthfully, I haven't had much to say... or rather, I haven't felt like what I've had to say is worth putting into cyberspace.
But maybe today, I can muster up the words - and courage, even - to say what's on my mind. Prepare yourselves, this is sure to be a long one.
I work 40 hours a week. Aside from spending time with my sister and friends, that's pretty much it... so what's the excuse for the lack of bloggage, Angela? Much like my first post in February, my brain and emotions have been a bit lucid, a bit flighty and disconnected. I don't like it. I hate to admit that my mind is in its best shape when I am rehearsing for or performing in a show. And it's been more than three months since my last show closed. I'm dying to be a part of something that excites me again.
Life isn't hard right now; I live a happy life; my job treats me well; my family is sweet, and my friends are, too. I'm just bored out of my ever-loving mind and need a boost to the brain, that natural high that allows me to feel like I'm contributing to society... even if I'm not.
Does that make me codependent on theatre? Probably. My heart aches to get out of Utah, out of this stagnancy and into the New York state of mind. I find myself lost in thoughts of pursuing my performance career at full-speed for hours upon hours everyday.
In January of 2008, I had just turned 21 and was starting at a new school. From January until September 2008, I had auditioned for five shows and had been turned away from each one. During that time, my self-esteem was in the toilet, I had a pretty pathetic-looking resumé, I was a little on the hefty side and picked lousy audition pieces. Those nine months were miserable for me. I worked two jobs for most of it and participated in some stagehand opportunities at the school in order to retain my scholarship and, perhaps, some sanity, too. Finally, I auditioned for and was cast in Urinetown for my first show at Weber in August of 2008. Since then, save a one-and-a-half-month gap between Peter Pan and Joseph at Rodgers, I have not stopped rehearsing and/or performing. That's more than three years NON-STOP.
So, yes, co-dependency is definitely a possibility here. Since this past December, I have auditioned for three shows and a video contest. And since this past December, I have been rejected from three shows and a video contest. Even typing the word "rejected" made me cringe. I have gone into these auditions and the contest with prepared and appropriate pieces, a relatively impressive resumé, and decent self-confidence. So what gives? Why do I feel like history is repeating itself from those downtrodden nine months in 2008? Why do I feel myself slowly lessening in self-confidence and questioning if I'm doing the right thing?
In 2008, I would have answered those questions with tears, more questions, and with the proclamation that "I'm just not good enough."
But not today.
Today, in 2012, as a 25-year-old with a bachelor's degree in Theatre Arts, I answer those questions with a simple, unemotional and grown-up response: it is the nature of the beast.
Granted, there are those people in this business who somehow just get everything handed to them, but those people are few and far between. I work to get what I want, and sometimes even when I work my patookiss off, the odds aren't in my favor. All cards on the table, I cried after three of the four auditions; I made the reasoning behind my not getting cast extremely personal, because... well, that's what we do. But the fact in the business is this: you win some, and you lose some. And it IS personal, isn't it? It could be about your hair color, your height, your eyes, your ethnicity, your vocal range, your choice of song, how curvy you are, how not curvy you are, your dress, your Equity membership. It's a personal business and it's a business about people. Casting directors, music directors, producers, and choreographers are not my enemies. I may not always agree with or understand the outcome in casting, but what's done is done, and then it's time to move on to what's next. But best of all, I know that just because I wasn't someone's first pick for a musical or play or contest, I am still a woman of immeasurable worth. It doesn't define me. I hate to sound so cliché in saying something like that, but it's the truth. I also know that because I work hard, I will be able to find work. And as long as I continue to love it and grow in it, I am absolutely in the right profession.
While I wish I had been able to accept these realities years ago, I feel that now is the perfect time. With my move to New York on the rise, and hundreds of auditions on the horizon, I appreciate the understanding that no audition or callback is unsuccessful. If nothing else, it's thickening my skin and giving me more experienced perspectives for the next one and making me more grateful for the next show I DO get cast in.
Fact: this little planet called Theatre is an odd one... but it is one that I can call home. Because home is where the heart is.
