I Didn't Prove Her Wrong

I grew up reading about and seeing success stories on TV. People who encountered hardships and rose above. Underdogs who were now leading the charge. I was always so inspired by them and their stories. When people told them they couldn’t, they worked that much harder and proved the naysayers wrong. I loved it. I loved it when mean people were proven wrong. When that person got their sweet sweet moment shining in the spotlight and said for all the world to hear, “So and so, you told me I couldn’t do this, and look at me now”. Ugh! I loved it!

From the time I could walk and talk I was putting on couch rock concerts, writing and performing plays, putting on comedy skits, wearing costumes, and making my dad take pictures of me for all of it. In my mind, I was destined to entertain the world and I would be FAMOUS. I would be a world-wide entertainer. People asked me what I wanted to be and I would say “famous actress”. To my pre-school teacher’s lament, I would always head straight for the costume trunk rather than my desk. At my childhood friend’s birthday party, I put on a show where I mostly just did a lot of prat falls and made little kids laugh. 

By the time I was in 5th grade, my dad decided to take me down the street to the local community theatre to audition for Our Town. I didn’t get the role I wanted, but the director really liked me and my spunk. Therefore, he made up a role for me and gave me a line that wasn’t in the play. It gave me a moment that was a scene stealer and always made everyone laugh. The laughter I elicited was exhilarating.

When I was in junior high, I had done a handful of plays. Always pretty small roles, but always felt special just to be involved. My friends and family knew me as an actress, with big plans to move to Hollywood and be a movie star. That continued throughout high school. The roles I received usually being of a comedic variety, and me always proudly proclaiming I planned to be an actress.

Senior year of high school, when everyone has their meeting with the guidance counselor to discuss where they wanted to go to college and what they wanted to major in, I told mine I wanted to be an actress. And she said to me, “Well, I hope you are a good waitress”. I decided right then and there that she was gonna be my scrumptious “I proved her wrong” story. I told everyone that would listen what she had said to me, and how when I accepted my Oscar someday I would call her out in my speech. I would say “To my high school guidance counselor, I guess it’s a good thing I was a terrible waitress”. If anything, I needed to succeed now more than ever, just to prove my naysayer wrong.

I majored in theater in college, and she was definitely not the last of the cynics. In fact, many of the wet blankets were the acting professors. A handful of them made sure to drop a daily reality dose for us about how many odd jobs we would work and how most of us would never “make it”. It was just more fuel in the fire for me. I was not going to be the person that failed. And, someday, they would all beg me for parts in my movies. I told myself their “failure” was their problem, and I would prove them all wrong. I knew that I would move to California and make a go of it.

Then I met my eventual ex-husband not long before I graduated college. I hadn’t saved any money, was scared to move, and didn’t want to leave him. As such, I decided I would wait for him and we would move together. Then we got married and I decided I didn’t want to move far away from our families. Therefore, I decided I wanted to move to Chicago to pursue acting there and to be close to family.

I waited and waited and waited on him to finish school. Then we moved. For a long while, I did nothing as far as acting. I was scared. I made excuses. I worked full-time at crummy day jobs so we could take care of ourselves. Then, I started auditioning a little. Getting involved with a theatre company next door. Testing the waters. Planning to make my big comeback. Then my life and relationship started falling apart with my then-husband. I used all of the energy and time I had to try to hold us and our lives together. So, I gave up on my dreams again.

When our marriage ended, I finally felt free. Nothing and no one was holding me back. Although, at this point, I was no longer really interested in acting. I can’t say why for sure. I knew I wanted to perform, but I just didn’t have it in my heart to act anymore. People had been telling me for years that they could see me being a stand-up comic. And, for the last couple of years, I had been entertaining the idea, but previously never had the time or resources to do anything for myself. Now, I did.

I sold a Tiffany’s bracelet on eBay and used the money to sign up for an improv class. It wasn’t stand-up, but I didn’t know how to get into stand-up, so I figured this class would at least set me on the right path. It did. I met the right people, who showed me the right direction, and I didn’t look back. I was a stand-up comic for 5 years, and that was the new dream. That is how I would be famous and prove people wrong.

It had its ups and downs for sure, but I felt I was making real progress and headway with it. I had cool gigs at amazing clubs in Chicago and around the world, spots on tours, traveled for festivals, and even played a comedic sidekick in an independent feature film. I would take turns visiting and performing in NYC and LA to decide where I would move to really pursue it. I eventually decided on NYC, and set my sights on moving there. Instead of accepting an Oscar where I got to make fun of my guidance counselor, I would do it in my Comedy Central special. No biggie.

Throughout comedy, I experienced so much sexism and harassment. I never experienced assault, but I knew women who did. The community was so toxic and quick to jump down each other’s throats and start drama. Don’t get me wrong, I know some of the most amazing, lovely people in the world from doing comedy. But, on the whole, the collective community was just too negative for me. I found my anxiety and depression spiraling out of control.

The #MeToo movement was happening, and if you think stuff was coming out of the woodwork on a national level, that went double for the local level. A local male comic that I really liked and respected turned out to be our own version of Louis CK with new women comics, another guy was going around drugging young female comics at open mics, and lady comics had male stalkers that no one tried to stop. That was the tip of the iceberg.

We had witch hunts where some female comics threw other women under the bus to get themselves a leg up with the cool dudes on their cool bro shows. I was harassed by male comics and by male audience members. I felt absolutely broken. It was no longer fun or productive and I felt unhealthy and unhinged. I stepped away for a break that turned into retirement. I have never regretted it, and it was the best and most healthy decision for me.

Still with no desire to act and a comedy career ended, how was I supposed to become famous and prove that stupid bitch wrong? I guess I have come along far enough in therapy that it is no longer as important to me. I had moments in my life where I was scared to try, but eventually did anyways. I had other times where the things I tried didn’t work out, but it was ok with me. Then I had instances where I did try, and it did work out, but it made me miserable so I had to leave. But, I can never say I didn’t try everything I wanted to try.

I sometimes still have the desire to be famous. Just because I do love attention, being on stage, and people listening to me. Sometimes I want me and my mom’s shenanigans to get picked up for a reality TV show. Or I want to write a book and have it turn me into a famous author. Or, I want to be a body positivity influencer who is known around the world on social media. Sometimes I still want to prove that guidance counselor wrong.

I am still working on the part of me that thinks I have to be famous to be a success. I am not completely past it. But I am a lot more over it than I used to be. And I certainly am not going to compromise my health and happiness to do it. I have been through a lot, I have tried a lot, I have faced a lot of fears, and I have met people who have changed my life through all of these endeavors. I may not feel like a success, but I don’t feel like a failure. I am a work in progress. I will continue to re-define what I want to do with my life as I fearlessly try new things and decide how they make me feel.

What I have landed on - the thing that feels like my calling - maybe it will make me famous and maybe it won’t - is my writing. Maybe very few will ever read it. I would love to somehow influence the world on a large scale for the better. But that may never happen. And I need to learn to be happy doing it on a smaller scale, and without the need of my ego to “prove someone wrong”.

My guidance counselor wasn’t wrong, but she wan’t right. I did not end up being an actress. But I didn’t end up being a waitress. (I was a terrible waitress). And if I had been a career waitress, why did she have to demean that profession? Maybe it was her job to help students have a realistic view of the world and have back-up plans. But it was also her job to help them go after their dreams and give them the resources and tools to pursue it. That isn’t what she did. She just put me down and insulted me. She also wasn’t suited for her profession and, in my opinion, wasn’t successful at it.

I may not be a famous actress, but I am a fairly happy, well-adjusted person who encourages people to follow their dreams and I don’t insult them. My life may not have ended up the way I expected it to, and I may not have gotten my delicious “I told ya so” moment, but I have been better at every job I have ever done (which is a lot) because of trying all these different things and learning from them. I, at least, ended up trying and deciding they weren’t what I wanted after all, despite some people’s best efforts to squash my dreams. I am working on being ok with not proving them wrong, and being proud of myself for trying and course correcting when I realize it isn’t for me. But, if I do end up getting famous, I will still plan to rub it in their faces. (Some habits die hard!)