Two posts ago, I had expressed my state of unhappiness. I had expressed, in so many words, that I was chin-deep in depression and that I was trying to dig my way out of it by choosing different paths than the ones I had been walking, and sometimes sprinting, previously. I've been working on it. Quite actively. It hasn't all been pretty and graceful, but pretty and graceful has never been the Angela Jeffries way. It's in my nature to stumble around quite a bit before I get my footing.
The past two months since that post have been full of recovery, of discovery, of rediscovery.
Life has blessed me with some truly inspiring people. I don't always acknowledge their presence, but they are always there.
Whether it's the friend who only takes pictures of nature to post on Instagram. The friend whose daughter's tragic death has sparked a flame in her to build others through her and their own grief and has helped so many other people to cope. The friends whose sweet family is such a beacon of hope that you just wish you could be a fly on the wall to soak up the love you can only imagine is there. The friend whose love for her two adopted sons melts you with every photo she posts or comment she makes. The friend who knows the exact words to say and when to say them, even from oceans away. The friend who finds the time, energy, and effort to post in his blog everyday about something around him that he's inspired by. The friend who goes out of his way to tell me how much my blog means to him. The friend who sent me a simple, yet sweet, gift in the mail just because he thought of me when he saw it. The friend who is making goals with me. The friend who can give the greatest advice and make me double over with laughter all in the same minute.
Inspirations, big and small, from the most precious people in my precious little life.
I've been sitting on a certain subject for a blog post for some time but am just getting around to putting the jumble of thoughts into so many words for cyberspace. When I sat down at the computer today, I wasn't sure where to start, so I decided to catch up on the latest from the blogs I was following. Today, I was inspired by one in particular. I've always loved reading Emily's posts, but this one struck so many chords with me for some reason. I suppose it goes hand-in-hand with where my mind has been for the past little while and even opened my eyes to some broader outlooks on the matter.
Guilt is an issue for me. It's not a difficult task for anyone to make me feel guilty (though, as Mom says, no one can make you feel any way without your consent). Sad as this is, it often propels me to do something, perhaps because I already feel guilty or for fear that I might if I don't do it. Pathetic, huh? I even blame myself frequently and let myself get so down from the guilt of the blame that it's quite a chore to build myself back up.
Who knows where it started? I grew up in a home where I was very loved (maybe a bit picked on by my siblings, but who wasn't?). I learned how to work hard. I learned how to be on time and how to be frugal. I learned how to be creative and make art. I learned how to be relatively independent. I learned how to be kind and sensitive. Grade school is a bit of a blur for me, so it very well could've come from there. Truthfully, though, it's been a part of who I am for as long as I can remember.
Recently, however, since I've started to really hone in on what's happening in my life, I've figured out that the guilt thing is coming from something else entirely, something bigger: proof. Doesn't make much sense, does it? I'll try to explain a little better.
Here's the sad, awful truth. More than the guilt, the one thing that drives me isn't my ambition; it isn't my love for humankind, it isn't my sensitive nature or tender heart, it isn't a positive outlook on things around me.
Nope.
It's trying to prove myself to other people.
My entire life, I have wanted everyone that I come in contact with to think that I am awesome, so I try to do whatever it takes to try to make them think that. I want people to look up to me and admire me. I want people to understand why I get the things that I get, why I'm given the opportunities I'm given. I want people to want to be just like me. I want people to love me. I want everyone to love me. I want people to want to look like me, act like me. I want to be validated. I want people to always want to be around me. I want approval. I want people to approve of me. I want everyone to approve of me. So I tweak myself here and press myself there in order to be that for them.
I suppose part of that comes from the profession I've chosen. I find a show I'm interested in, learn the material, and then walk into a room where I proceed to try to prove to the people in the room that I'm the right fit.
I had an audition back in August with a national touring company. I went in, sang a song I felt good about and was asked to sing something else. After I finished the second song, the director asked me who I saw myself as in the show. I answered him. He said, "Prove it to me tomorrow." A callback! Success! I went home, worked very hard on the material and came back to try to prove it. But... I still wasn't doing something right. "No, no, you're not quite there yet. We'll try again tomorrow." They offered some suggestions, and I went home and got to work. I dyed my hair. I watched makeup tutorials. I wore a super short dress and high heels. I was willing to do whatever it took to prove that I was right. And still, it wasn't working for the director. Several callbacks later, after I ended up literally on my hands and knees cleaning trash off the floor while I sang a song and did a scene, I thought to myself, "What am I doing?!" Eventually, I received an email from the casting director informing me that the show had been cast. She kindly - truly kindly - told me that I just didn't "have that thing" that they were looking for.
When I look back at that, I think of the earliest interaction. "Who do you see yourself as?" I gave him the answer I thought was right for me, but he didn't see that. His vision of the character was completely different from what I had pictured, so I attempted to conform to his vision rather than mine.
(Let's think about this in real life while we're at it: so-and-so's vision of who I am is completely different from what I had pictured, so I attempted to conform to so-and-so's vision rather than mine.)
True, part of the profession is putting yourself out there for them to nitpick on. Absolutely. But let's stop and think for a minute: if what you have to offer is what you have to offer, then what else do you have to offer? And what you have to offer is more than enough. True, you can show them more of what you have to offer, but altering yourself to prove yourself worthy of the role or show? That doesn't seem right. Or authentic. Or anything that I signed up for. One of the many wonderful things about theatre is its rawness. Yes, you're playing a character. Yes, you're playing someone you aren't. But if it doesn't come from a place of authenticity, who cares? Perhaps that's why I find it so important as an actress to pinpoint at least one thing I can relate to in the character I'm playing. I want it to be real... even when I'm playing a turtle or a mole.
More than proving myself in my profession, I've found that it rules my personal walk of life. I have tried for a very long time to prove that I am good enough for someone to want to be with me. I have tried numerous times to prove that I am a good friend - the best friend - to so many people. I have tried to prove that I am the most attentive listener. I have tried to prove that I am the funniest. I have tried to prove that I am the quirkiest. And in all of these things and so much more, I have gone out of my way to show it, to prove it.
And when I can't prove it, I'm not enough. I am constantly trying to prove to other people why I'm good enough, pretty enough, loving enough, nurturing enough, kind enough, right enough, strong enough, smart enough, caring enough, perfect enough, thin enough, gentle enough, nice enough, rich enough, funny enough, and on and on and on and on and on.
And really, what it comes down to is that I lose myself - who I really am - in all of that. I lose myself in trying to be someone else for someone else. It's taken over who I am for a long time. And I'm done. I'm done trying to be someone I'm not for other people.
Because you see, who I really am isn't so bad at all. In fact, who I am is awesome. Yeah, I'm awesome.
I am 27 years old, Texas born and raised, with an accent that only comes out around Mom. I stole a Beauty and the Beast band-aid from Walmart when I was 6 years old and thought I was going to go to jail because of it. I wore my dad's safety glasses to school one day in first grade for attention. I became engrossed with Titanic when the movie came out, and it's still in my top five. I graduated 34th in my class, just one person short of the top 10%. I cry a lot, but not as much as I used to. I thought I was going to get married when I was 19 years old and could have. I wear my heart on my sleeve; it's not hard to figure out how I'm feeling about something. I say "I love you" a lot, and I mean it every time, from the very bottom of my heart; that doesn't make it mean any less. I love my eyes. I hate my nose. I love my teeth and my hair. I love my lips. I hate my eyebrows. I love my body. I love that, more often than not, I control how my body feels based on how I treat it. I spend far too much time on my phone; I'm trying to be better about that. I love foreign films and animated movies, but I hate anime. I abhor abbreviations. I love being barefoot. My favorite song when I was little was "I'm Trying to Be Like Jesus," and the song still makes me teary anytime I hear it. I know almost nothing about history and science. I know a lot about grammar and math. I want to write a book one day. I love to wear pajamas almost always, but the girly-girl inside of me loves to put on a cute dress and shoes, curl my hair, and put on lots of makeup. I love babies and dogs. I love food... a lot. I make really great desserts (but sometimes they're disastrous). I know how to throw a really good party and how to be an excellent host. Sometimes I judge people too harshly. Sometimes I don't give people the benefit of the doubt that they deserve. Sometimes I think irrationally. Sometimes I let my heart rule my logic. I'm stubborn. If I say I'm going to do something, I will do it. I over-romanticize things. I over-think things.
While I do believe that life is about becoming a better person, I also believe that it's about being a better you, not a better someone else that so-and-so will approve of. I'm happy with the person I am and the person that I'm becoming. I have nothing to hide. I have nothing to prove to anyone. I choose to make the good things that I do be extensions of who I really am. I don't want to lose who I am in order to please someone else because I want to love who I really am, and I know a lot of people who love who I really am, too. I'm not going to beg people to love me. The people worth impressing are the people I don't have to impress. I want to get all the crap out of the way and just give of myself, without seeking approval. (How many ways can I say that?)
So this is it. I'm going to use my energy I would've used trying to please people and gain their approval on becoming a better version of myself instead. I have a feeling that everyone will just approve of that person anyway. But this time, I will, too.
The past two months since that post have been full of recovery, of discovery, of rediscovery.
Life has blessed me with some truly inspiring people. I don't always acknowledge their presence, but they are always there.
Whether it's the friend who only takes pictures of nature to post on Instagram. The friend whose daughter's tragic death has sparked a flame in her to build others through her and their own grief and has helped so many other people to cope. The friends whose sweet family is such a beacon of hope that you just wish you could be a fly on the wall to soak up the love you can only imagine is there. The friend whose love for her two adopted sons melts you with every photo she posts or comment she makes. The friend who knows the exact words to say and when to say them, even from oceans away. The friend who finds the time, energy, and effort to post in his blog everyday about something around him that he's inspired by. The friend who goes out of his way to tell me how much my blog means to him. The friend who sent me a simple, yet sweet, gift in the mail just because he thought of me when he saw it. The friend who is making goals with me. The friend who can give the greatest advice and make me double over with laughter all in the same minute.
Inspirations, big and small, from the most precious people in my precious little life.
I've been sitting on a certain subject for a blog post for some time but am just getting around to putting the jumble of thoughts into so many words for cyberspace. When I sat down at the computer today, I wasn't sure where to start, so I decided to catch up on the latest from the blogs I was following. Today, I was inspired by one in particular. I've always loved reading Emily's posts, but this one struck so many chords with me for some reason. I suppose it goes hand-in-hand with where my mind has been for the past little while and even opened my eyes to some broader outlooks on the matter.
Guilt is an issue for me. It's not a difficult task for anyone to make me feel guilty (though, as Mom says, no one can make you feel any way without your consent). Sad as this is, it often propels me to do something, perhaps because I already feel guilty or for fear that I might if I don't do it. Pathetic, huh? I even blame myself frequently and let myself get so down from the guilt of the blame that it's quite a chore to build myself back up.
Who knows where it started? I grew up in a home where I was very loved (maybe a bit picked on by my siblings, but who wasn't?). I learned how to work hard. I learned how to be on time and how to be frugal. I learned how to be creative and make art. I learned how to be relatively independent. I learned how to be kind and sensitive. Grade school is a bit of a blur for me, so it very well could've come from there. Truthfully, though, it's been a part of who I am for as long as I can remember.
Recently, however, since I've started to really hone in on what's happening in my life, I've figured out that the guilt thing is coming from something else entirely, something bigger: proof. Doesn't make much sense, does it? I'll try to explain a little better.
Here's the sad, awful truth. More than the guilt, the one thing that drives me isn't my ambition; it isn't my love for humankind, it isn't my sensitive nature or tender heart, it isn't a positive outlook on things around me.
Nope.
It's trying to prove myself to other people.
My entire life, I have wanted everyone that I come in contact with to think that I am awesome, so I try to do whatever it takes to try to make them think that. I want people to look up to me and admire me. I want people to understand why I get the things that I get, why I'm given the opportunities I'm given. I want people to want to be just like me. I want people to love me. I want everyone to love me. I want people to want to look like me, act like me. I want to be validated. I want people to always want to be around me. I want approval. I want people to approve of me. I want everyone to approve of me. So I tweak myself here and press myself there in order to be that for them.
I suppose part of that comes from the profession I've chosen. I find a show I'm interested in, learn the material, and then walk into a room where I proceed to try to prove to the people in the room that I'm the right fit.
I had an audition back in August with a national touring company. I went in, sang a song I felt good about and was asked to sing something else. After I finished the second song, the director asked me who I saw myself as in the show. I answered him. He said, "Prove it to me tomorrow." A callback! Success! I went home, worked very hard on the material and came back to try to prove it. But... I still wasn't doing something right. "No, no, you're not quite there yet. We'll try again tomorrow." They offered some suggestions, and I went home and got to work. I dyed my hair. I watched makeup tutorials. I wore a super short dress and high heels. I was willing to do whatever it took to prove that I was right. And still, it wasn't working for the director. Several callbacks later, after I ended up literally on my hands and knees cleaning trash off the floor while I sang a song and did a scene, I thought to myself, "What am I doing?!" Eventually, I received an email from the casting director informing me that the show had been cast. She kindly - truly kindly - told me that I just didn't "have that thing" that they were looking for.
When I look back at that, I think of the earliest interaction. "Who do you see yourself as?" I gave him the answer I thought was right for me, but he didn't see that. His vision of the character was completely different from what I had pictured, so I attempted to conform to his vision rather than mine.
(Let's think about this in real life while we're at it: so-and-so's vision of who I am is completely different from what I had pictured, so I attempted to conform to so-and-so's vision rather than mine.)
True, part of the profession is putting yourself out there for them to nitpick on. Absolutely. But let's stop and think for a minute: if what you have to offer is what you have to offer, then what else do you have to offer? And what you have to offer is more than enough. True, you can show them more of what you have to offer, but altering yourself to prove yourself worthy of the role or show? That doesn't seem right. Or authentic. Or anything that I signed up for. One of the many wonderful things about theatre is its rawness. Yes, you're playing a character. Yes, you're playing someone you aren't. But if it doesn't come from a place of authenticity, who cares? Perhaps that's why I find it so important as an actress to pinpoint at least one thing I can relate to in the character I'm playing. I want it to be real... even when I'm playing a turtle or a mole.
More than proving myself in my profession, I've found that it rules my personal walk of life. I have tried for a very long time to prove that I am good enough for someone to want to be with me. I have tried numerous times to prove that I am a good friend - the best friend - to so many people. I have tried to prove that I am the most attentive listener. I have tried to prove that I am the funniest. I have tried to prove that I am the quirkiest. And in all of these things and so much more, I have gone out of my way to show it, to prove it.
And when I can't prove it, I'm not enough. I am constantly trying to prove to other people why I'm good enough, pretty enough, loving enough, nurturing enough, kind enough, right enough, strong enough, smart enough, caring enough, perfect enough, thin enough, gentle enough, nice enough, rich enough, funny enough, and on and on and on and on and on.
And really, what it comes down to is that I lose myself - who I really am - in all of that. I lose myself in trying to be someone else for someone else. It's taken over who I am for a long time. And I'm done. I'm done trying to be someone I'm not for other people.
Because you see, who I really am isn't so bad at all. In fact, who I am is awesome. Yeah, I'm awesome.
I am 27 years old, Texas born and raised, with an accent that only comes out around Mom. I stole a Beauty and the Beast band-aid from Walmart when I was 6 years old and thought I was going to go to jail because of it. I wore my dad's safety glasses to school one day in first grade for attention. I became engrossed with Titanic when the movie came out, and it's still in my top five. I graduated 34th in my class, just one person short of the top 10%. I cry a lot, but not as much as I used to. I thought I was going to get married when I was 19 years old and could have. I wear my heart on my sleeve; it's not hard to figure out how I'm feeling about something. I say "I love you" a lot, and I mean it every time, from the very bottom of my heart; that doesn't make it mean any less. I love my eyes. I hate my nose. I love my teeth and my hair. I love my lips. I hate my eyebrows. I love my body. I love that, more often than not, I control how my body feels based on how I treat it. I spend far too much time on my phone; I'm trying to be better about that. I love foreign films and animated movies, but I hate anime. I abhor abbreviations. I love being barefoot. My favorite song when I was little was "I'm Trying to Be Like Jesus," and the song still makes me teary anytime I hear it. I know almost nothing about history and science. I know a lot about grammar and math. I want to write a book one day. I love to wear pajamas almost always, but the girly-girl inside of me loves to put on a cute dress and shoes, curl my hair, and put on lots of makeup. I love babies and dogs. I love food... a lot. I make really great desserts (but sometimes they're disastrous). I know how to throw a really good party and how to be an excellent host. Sometimes I judge people too harshly. Sometimes I don't give people the benefit of the doubt that they deserve. Sometimes I think irrationally. Sometimes I let my heart rule my logic. I'm stubborn. If I say I'm going to do something, I will do it. I over-romanticize things. I over-think things.
While I do believe that life is about becoming a better person, I also believe that it's about being a better you, not a better someone else that so-and-so will approve of. I'm happy with the person I am and the person that I'm becoming. I have nothing to hide. I have nothing to prove to anyone. I choose to make the good things that I do be extensions of who I really am. I don't want to lose who I am in order to please someone else because I want to love who I really am, and I know a lot of people who love who I really am, too. I'm not going to beg people to love me. The people worth impressing are the people I don't have to impress. I want to get all the crap out of the way and just give of myself, without seeking approval. (How many ways can I say that?)
So this is it. I'm going to use my energy I would've used trying to please people and gain their approval on becoming a better version of myself instead. I have a feeling that everyone will just approve of that person anyway. But this time, I will, too.
