The thing with acting is…

There are so many things about acting.

Things they forget to tell you in college. Or things they purposefully choose not to. Perhaps things they attempt to tell you but you drown them out because you are young and you are confident and there is no doubt in your mind that as soon as you can break free from twenty-five credits a semester of dancing and singing and weepy Shakespeare monologues, you will achieve It. You will move to New York and the city will welcome you with open arms and you will rise to the top almost instantaneously.

I suppose reality is not something college can prepare you for. Seasoned actors can talk about it, people can tell you over and over how hard it is. But really, you need to show up to find out.

When you roll out of bed at 5 am to head to an open call because you don’t have your union card, the reality seeps in. When you realize that you need to hold down a full-time job and audition and have money for headshots and seminars and classes at the same time and no one is going to help you out with that, the reality intensifies. It edges its way into your brain where it takes up residence permanently, propping its feet up on your membranes, tapping them once in awhile so your temples resonate, just to remind you in case you forgot that life is hard. That rejection hurts. That you will do things you never imagined in order to stand on your own two feet.

That one year, you will have eight W-2 forms come tax season because in a span of twelve months, you have been a nanny, a caterer, a promotional model, a swimming instructor, oh pretty much any job that hires. You will brave the freezing cold air in February, walking down the street at 1 am, clutching cab fare in your hand and instead of putting up an arm to hail one and climb inside, you will put that money in your pocket and head toward the subway because that’s $20 you need for groceries.

You will call home and they will ask you how it’s going and you will lie and tell them it’s great. Tell them you’re really making progress! They won’t pause long enough to ask you how you’re really doing. They won’t ask you specific questions about how the industry works or how you feel about it, what the difference between union/non-union is, what does an agent do, what the hell is a manager. They’ll just say GREAT! GOOD JOB! And you’ll hang up the phone feeling misunderstood and a little resentful that they didn’t push harder for you.

You’ll blame anybody you can for the fact that you aren’t an immediate success. Your parents didn’t put you in dance classes. No one had the money to pay someone to teach you how to sing at a younger age. No one drove you into the city for auditions as a kid, nobody noticed how badly you wanted it.

And then you’ll feel guilty. Guilty that you blame them at all. With wisdom and maturity, you’ll recognize that looking to the past is pointless and that looking forward is all you have. And you suck it up and you grow a pair and you unfreeze your heart and you decide to take it all on yourself. You straighten up and you make your To Do lists and you take an extra job and you get out there and remember that no one can push you harder than you push yourself.

People will tempt you. Tell you that you are hilarious and marketable and pretty. They’ll tell you that they will for sure call you! That they just have to talk it over with their partner! That you are totally a shoe-in for this part!

But they never will. And you will feel betrayed and angry with yourself above anyone because you believed them. When will you ever learn.

People will tell you that you need more training. That you need to lose weight. That you need to change everything about yourself. And you will care even though you try hard not to. And you will listen even though you don’t want to.

There will come that moment when you consider surrendering down into the bitterness. How good it would feel to succumb to the rage and the rejection and the frustration. How easy it would be to accept that that is Who You Are, to rail against everyone, to blame, point fingers, throw your bruised ego at everyone you meet, to feel the need to prove yourself with every conversation. To toss around big auditions you went on, names of people you know, how great you are, to wear your insecurity on your sleeve for all to see.

But something will stop you.

A glimmer of something better.

The door in your mind will creak open a crack and let the light in and you will realize you have a choice.

And you will make up your mind that bitterness and insecurity and anger are not You.

You will pick yourself up off the kitchen floor, wipe your tears away and get focused.

You will do this again and again and again.

You will tumble into somebody’s arms and wonder why it’s not working and what you could do better and why you feel like the world’s biggest failure. And then you will stand up on your own, steady your feet and take a breath.

You will realize that you are better than bitterness. You are better than fast-talking agents who won’t put down their cell phone for five seconds to talk to you. Better than casting directors who type away on laptops while you sing. Better than the voice within that whines and wants to give up and wants to harden and block itself from the pain that continues to work its way inside.

You will meditate in order to clear space in your mind and in your heart. You will surround yourself with a tribe of people you can rely on, people you can call, people you can commiserate with, people who make you laugh and prevent you from taking yourself too seriously. In moments of pain, you will turn up the music and dance with the twins and jump on the bed. You will pause and feel grateful for the multiple opportunities to learn and to grow and to work harder.

You will accept responsibility for yourself and your choices. You will own your feelings and your actions. You will eventually come to understand that immediate success is not your path. It might be someone else’s but it isn’t yours. And astoundingly, you will revel in that understanding and in the obstacles that come hurling at you from outerspace. You will find peace in the fact that when success comes, if it ever does, you will appreciate it. You won’t take it for granted. You will be a whole person, capable of handling it.

And if it never comes, you will still be alright. You are still a strong, gorgeous, able creature. A loving, intelligent person, a joy to many around you. A good person, regardless of Broadway show credits or number of directors who think you are talented. An independent, marvelous artist, marching every day toward the dream in her soul, tap dancing down the street when she feels like it, choosing hope above everything else, striking matches and lighting up the dark wherever she goes.

(c) photoslevi