The Closed Doors

Hello my loves,

It’s been a hot second. Since November to be exact.

These past 8 months have been a whirlwind. So much has happened. I couldn’t bring myself to write about any of it.

Why? Well, one of the things that’s occurred in the last 8 months is deep self-discovery. Painful, but ultimately necessary and deeply beneficial.

I learned that I find my self worth in success.

I am highly driven to be successful. I define myself as the “successful” one. I want to inspire people and follow through on the goals I set out to accomplish.

Bingo.

I haven’t been able to write, because I felt I’ve had nothing to report.

I wrote a blog post of a similar nature to this about a month ago, but trashed it because I wanted to offer you all a success story. I wanted to give this testimony about being patient and tie it up with a big beautiful “success” bow by concluding it with a casting announcement.

I didn’t get the casting announcement. I don’t have anything to report. I threw a big panicked “I’m a failure” tantrum about three weeks ago.

And then I decided I don’t want to live in that place. It’s time to reset, re-calibrate, and redefine.

In high school, I was the motivated one. I was the one that was going to leave this town, turn my back on the “early marriage and babies” life, and take on the world.

In college, I was the perfect one. I had great grades, great jobs, a great attitude, and leadership skills. I was the teacher’s pet, showcase president, independent, and ambitious.

And after college I was the “successful” one. I had followed through on the promises I’d made to myself. I was working, I was performing. I was mentoring other young performers. I was laying plans to work on cruise ships and travel the world solo. I had an Instagram full of rehearsal photos, a website full of YouTube clips, and a planner full of auditions.

And then I didn't book that job

And then I didn’t book another one.

And then I made incredible friends outside of the world of performing arts

And then I fell in love before my pre-determined age of 29

And then I booked another contract….but at a repeat theater.

And then I didn’t book any summer work despite my 20+ auditions

And then I moved back into my parents house.

And then I didn’t book the job I’d been counting on for the fall. And none of these events (in my mind) prompted an inspiring blog post about patience, success, and following your dreams.

cue temper tantrum

Three weeks later, I’ve calmed down and have had a chance to breathe.

The phoenix needs to catch fire before he is reborn. And I needed to be broken in order to begin again.

My college roommate sent me a message a few weeks ago asking “are you happy, my Meow?”

I gave her what I believed to be an honest answer at the time:

“I'm happier and more content than I think I've ever been. Finding joy in the simplicity and beauty of the present instead of living for a volatile and unknown future. Moodscape of gratitude these last few weeks”

I genuinely believed that that was the case, but my tantrum a week later revealed to me otherwise: I have learning yet to do.

In the three weeks since my tantrum I have met incredible people that have spoken encouraging and powerful words into my life. I’ve had the opportunity to speak with parents and children pursuing careers in acting about the ins-and-outs of the business. I have seen old friends, made new ones, and as I write this, I am on a plane home after a long-overdue week visiting my love. Life is truly a gift.

When I was working in Orlando two weeks ago, the thing I told my students and their parents was: