Words leave a mark, Part 2?
Didn’t we already read Part 2?
(I goofed. Carry on. Really, THIS is Part 2. And if you are still reading – bless you for caring.)
“Diva.”
Once slapped with a label, it’s easy for one to believe they are that label.
And while “Diva” may be a label some consider empowering, I found it embarrassing.
Shortly following that exchange, I began to move away from performing.
I laugh when people say, “I have no regrets.” I wonder if they are being honest. Even Sinatra had a few regrets.
I absolutely have regrets. Thankfully, we can learn from regrets and failure. (Even though it may take years.) Awful at the time, if one can move beyond regrets and use them as a launchpad for the better, they are most definitely valuable.
One decision, which I regretted for many years of my adult life, also lead me into a deep time of self-reflection and spiritual growth. What was that regret?
“I regret not majoring in theater.”
I should have. I didn’t.
I just couldn’t pursue it. I believed myself to be the “diva” I was described. To me diva meant someone who was full of herself, but without the talent to back it up. Who was I trying to fool? Who was I to even think about pursuing a degree?
The decision not to major in theater stayed hidden in my heart. While researching colleges we looked at theater programs. I played along. After all, I was the theater kid. Of course I’d major in theater!
Oddly enough, a frightful experience in a single-engine plane got me out of having to worry about that theater degree.
While flying to Ohio University to visit the School of Theater, my father, who was piloting the small aircraft, had difficulty landing. After touching down briefly, we had to ascend back in the air, circle and attempt another landing. We tapped the runway, only to learn the landing was again off. Back up we went, circling in preparation for landing. At this point, I’m assuming my Mom was plenty nervous sitting in the co-pilot position. I was just trying to keep my Zero bar down. (You remember what you were eating when it almost comes back up …) When we finally landed after that third attempt, we examined the plane. The front prop was bent. Understandably, we were a bit thrown from that experience.
We had avoided what could have been a very serious accident.
The plane couldn’t be flown home. Nor do I think we wanted to fly. We rented a car. This transportation glitch resulted in us having to shorten our stay at the school in order to drive home.
The shortened stay also shortened my visit with Denny – who (I think) was the chair at the department at the time. Our quick visit gave me a excuse not to audition for the school of theater. Sure, looking back, of course I could have auditioned. But the experience left me just enough wiggle room to wiggle out: the flying experience jarred me, I wasn’t focused, I didn’t have enough time to really explore the school – yada, yada, yada.
Secretly, I was relieved.
I was still stuck in the desire to “fit”. And I didn’t believe I had the acting skills to fit there. I chose “no”, when in my heart, I always wish I had said “yes”.
By this point in my life, I was also a Christian. It was a new faith, and I didn’t yet know how to reconcile my involvement in theater (shows, roles, etc.) if I was personally uncomfortable with the content. So, rather than exploring this . . .
I gave it up completely.
College was fantastic (ironically spent in the TCOM building right next to the Theater building). I invested those years in a video production degree, developing my relationship with Jesus, and getting to know a guy named George who would go on to become my husband.
But.
I have always felt a big gaping hole. For as much as you can take a girl out of the theater, the theater never leaves the girl . . .
Something was missing.
to be continued . . .
