If Ya Don't Got It, Fake It Until Ya Do!

If ya got it, flaunt it. Trouble is, I don't got it just yet. Self confidence, that is. It's a tricky thing, that self confidence. Some people have it and have no reason to have it; some have it oozing out of their pores for all of the right reasons. Still others struggle to grab it and hold on tight. I, of course, am currently of the latter. I had it at some point in my life, then I buried myself and lost it. As you all know by now, I am working on getting it back and living again. The problem is that having self confidence is not as easy as flipping a switch. Oh, how I wish it were! My life would be so much simpler, easier, more exciting!! Alas, I am stuck with me. But I think I can work with that.

One great thing happened this week. Sometimes, that's all I can ask for! A wonderful and extremely talented woman asked me awhile ago to read the stage directions for a reading she was doing of her play. I immediately said yes, without hesitation - saying yes instead of saying no to life! I was flattered and so happy that she asked. Me. I have no idea if or how many people she asked before me, and I don't really care at this point. She thought of me and asked me. I was thrilled. As the date came closer to the rehearsal and the reading itself, I started to get nervous. I started doubting myself and my ability. To read words. Out loud. Silly, right? I know. I have a frackin' theatre degree. I have done enough shows to know that I can read words. Out loud. I can read a play, memorize lines, develop a character, make choices, and act out a scene. I can read a play and see it like a movie in my head. I can create a set, block scenes, make costume and lighting choices. But reading words - just stage directions! - with a script in front of me, in front of other people, started to freak me out. My goodness. I knew I was a mess, but I didn't think I was that big of a mess. Geez.

So, I decided to buck up. I started to read the play, then decided to not read it until the rehearsal. Yes, it started to freak me out. Fine. No problems to wait. Rehearsal time came and all went well. Fine. Everyone was a stranger except for my friend, but I didn't die. Then the reading. Let me tell you, the reading was in one of the most gorgeous apartments I have seen in some time. Beautiful views of New York City! I had a glass of wine and relaxed a little bit. Then the reading. We had a small but generous audience. And it went well! Again, I didn't die. No, I didn't change the world with my reading of the stage directions, but I did it. And I wasn't tongue tied. I feel pretty good about that.

Is that a glimmer? Maybe. Perhaps I won't be faking it for long.

Take A Chance On Me

I am taking a chance. I don't normally take chances. I go with the safe and secure option. No frills, no risks… no fun. I have missed out on many things by not taking a chance. Avoiding the risk. But I am trying to make that a thing of the past. I'm living in New York City! If I can make it here, I can make it anywhere, right? At least Sinatra says so. I am building on this "living in the moment" strategy. Saying yes instead of saying no. A lot easier said than done.

Since I've started this blog, I am seeing glimpses of the person I used to be and the person I want to be. I see her! It's just going to take time to wade through all of the crap that's in the way. All mental and emotional crap. It's funny how that piles up on you, just like the real deal. Do they have a show for emotional hoarders too? I would be on that in a heart beat.

So, I just signed up for a voice over training program that includes a demo. Yikes! This is completely out of my comfort zone and makes me nervous. Why? Because I have no real experience and have no connections. I am a terrible networker, but I'm doing it. With or without anyone's help. Because I'm going to take a chance on me.

Just ask ABBA.

I Am...An Onion

I am too nice. Too sweet. I hear that so often, and I have  heard it for a long time. Can one be too nice, too sweet? I know that there have been several times in my life when I have treated someone horribly and felt like a total ass afterwards for doing it. Those moments come flooding back to me unexpectedly and bring the hottest flush of embarrassment to my cheeks. I think, "How could anyone like me after I have treated someone like that???" I may have had my excuses at the time, but there is never a good enough reason to treat someone like they are less than what I am. If I think that they are, then I most certainly think too much of myself.

I remember, as a child, teasing a neighborhood girl to no end. What was her name? Candy? Or was that her mother's name? I just can't remember. I do remember specifically laughing at the girl, calling her names, and chasing her back to her house. I was not alone in doing this, but I do think I had a big part in doing it. I remember even then that it wasn't the right thing to do, but I did it anyway. How is that too nice?

Just out of high school and into college, I had classes with great friends that I had known for quite some time. At some point during that first year in college, something changed for me. I wanted to break away from the teenager that was in high school and become an adult in college. But I felt like my friends still wanted to be in high school. That feeling was not correct, I'm sure, but that was how I felt. We would have classes together and laugh and joke; we ate lunch together, and they continued to drool over magazines of.... who was it? New Kids On the Block? I think, but it's hard to remember for sure. Goes to show you how important it really was. One day, I started to push them away. I stopped talking to them; I stopped sitting with them at lunch. I just cut them out of my life. I never gave them an excuse or a second thought until later in my life. How is that too sweet?

As an adult quickly approaching 40, I realize now how important friends are and how important it is to treat them well so that they know they are appreciated. No one ever likes the feeling of being cut out of someone's life. That hurts. Friends are precious. Perhaps it's karma coming back to bite me now that it's so hard for me to make friends. Perhaps. But what I am about to write is not to send that karma away. It just needs to be said.

I'm sorry. It is incredibly late in coming and much deserved. I'm sorry Candy or Candy's daughter for chasing you and teasing you. I'm sorry Cindy, Tara, and Mindy for cutting you out of my life. None of you deserved that. You didn't do anything wrong. I was just not too nice or too sweet to treat you that way. It may not mean much now, and in this way, but I needed to put it out there in the universe to be read.

So can anyone be too nice or too sweet? Not really. Not even the nicest and sweetest of us. Because we never see all of the layers of someone in one shot. We have an outer layer to protect us, and then we have all of these inner layers that will make you cry if peeled or cut. I am indeed an onion, but perhaps one of a sweeter variety because everyone deserves to be treated as an equal and with respect.

I am a Vidalia. 

Little Girl

It is always interesting to ride the subway in New York City. There are certainly other adjectives to use when describing the subway, but I will go with interesting today. I can easily encounter 50 people during a ride down to Midtown, but I never really see them. That's because we are all either a) "sleeping", b) "playing" on our electronic devices, c) "reading" the posters around the subway car, or d) giving up the sham altogether and just looking down at our hands in our laps to avoid any sort of eye contact. I am guilty of b through d. Of course, we can all use the excuse that we don't want to deal with all of the crazies that are around. Mental health is an issue here! But when walking, I find myself looking at the ground. When waiting, I find myself looking at my lap. Not making eye contact with anyone if I can help it. Disengaging from the life that is going on around me. Yet still aware of it all.

I remember the moment I became self aware as a child. I was perhaps 7 or so, and I was walking home after playing with a friend. It was a beautiful and warm day - sun shining, birds chirping, the whole cliche. I realized I was smiling. Why was I smiling? I couldn't think of an answer. I stopped smiling. It was a strange moment for me. I wonder now, was I a happy child? Or was that the beginning of making conscious choices of who I was and who I was to become? Was that the beginning of the angst and teeth gnashing? I wonder. I don't remember much of my childhood - a little of my parents' divorce and a fight, a few visits with my father, a slumber party for my birthday (trying to stay up late by eating M&Ms and drinking Pepsi!), my grandpa - but I do distinctly remember that moment. It's funny what sticks with you and what fades. That may have been the moment, too, that self confidence, or the lack thereof, may have been born.

Life is scary. Aside from a few moments in my adult life, I have been hiding from it. An old friend of mine has said that he sees that child version of himself when life gets scary. He chooses to act bravely for him. I think that is what I am trying to do now. To be brave for my 7 year old self. To comfort her and tell her that it will be okay, that she can do this. Whatever this is.

So, I am starting to say yes to life more. I said yes to a Red Bulls game tonight. I said yes to a voice over workshop this weekend. And I said yes to my photography class that resulted in a photo exhibit on Halloween, and the Village Halloween parade that followed. That exhibit was really important for me. For nearly two hours, I was there alone with my 7 year old self standing next to me. I fought being a wall flower. I walked around and looked at all of the wonderful pictures, chatted with some of my fellow students, and acted like a chatterbox hopped up on caffeine when trying to talk with my instructor. Poor Kathy! But I did it. I was brave for her. And at the end of the exhibit, at least one person really liked my photographs. I'll take it!

So I am going to challenge myself. Make eye contact today. Smile. And let the crazies fall where they may.

Square Peg, Round Hole

Most of my life, I have felt like a square peg trying to fit into a round hole. I have been able to cover this up semi-successfully and ignore it. Have you ever seen Square Pegs? Lauren Hutchinson - that's me most of the time, past and present. While I had friends growing up, I was never part of the popular crowd or cool kids. I struggle(d) with my weight and the social scene. Unlike Lauren, I'm not sure I wanted to be part of the popular crowd (who am I kidding? I thought we were the popular crowd!), but I did want to be liked. I was more...what? Angst ridden? Fight-for-the-global-cause minded? Awkwardly-and-not-always right outspoken? I didn't let that stop me then; I'm not sure anymore. High school was so long ago! Yet I still feel like I'm 15 most days. I lack any kind of self-confidence I may have had at 15; either that, or I've realized that my 15 year old self was wrong, so wrong. 

The older I've become, the more of a wall flower I've turned into. I still gnash my teeth, but I do it on the inside now instead of letting other people see it. I am socially awkward talking to anyone, one on one, who I don't know or know well. I have a terrible time making friends; I mostly make just friendly acquaintances. I am a homebody. Once I am home and in my jammies, it is nearly impossible to get me to go back out. I am comfy, can't you see that? I am boring. It allows me to hide. To not put myself out there to be judged by the popular crowd, or any one for that matter. Where has that gotten me exactly? Since moving to New York City and having so much time on my hands, I have no choice but to try to answer that question. If I don't, I am squandering my opportunities. So, here it goes:

I am a square. I have been in hiding. My yeses have turned into nos. While my life has not been horrible - it's been moving along - I don't have much to show for it. Sure, I went back and graduated college. With a theatre degree. One of the most useless degrees one could get. Not that I'm not glad I have it. I am! I am just not in that place any more. And, looking back, college was just another Square Pegs moment for me. I thought I tried to make things happen, but maybe I didn't try hard enough. Or I tried for the wrong things. Or it just was not meant to be. Theatre and friends were really just friendly acquaintances whose cliques were already full.

I need to turn this ship around, to turn a no into a yes. I am almost 40, and I need to do something now. My interests are changing, evolving, and growing, so I need to put myself out there and try again. I'm interested in photography. Voice over work. I'm writing. These are things I have never tried before. And I may not be any good at some of it, but I can't let that keep stopping me from trying. I do have talent. I just need to find it.

See? Putting myself out there again! This time, I care less what the popular kids think. And I don't care if I'm not in their clique.

Mostly.