There is this scene in the movie Brick (one of my all time favorite movies, by the way) where Brendan walks into the room and Laura is reciting poetry while playing softly on the piano.
This is something that I have only dreamed of, but the truth is that I am too chicken shit to do it. Every time I think about trying to video myself in this way, I clam up and my anxiety goes through the roof.
I am absolutely terrified of putting myself out there. It’s like diving into a sea of judgement. I do it enough to myself.
Shutting Down
I used to dance on stage as a child. I took classical ballet for 15 years, along with tap, jazz, and eventually pointe. Then there what that one year when I sang “This Land Is Your Land” during the dance recital. I thought I was pretty special during that particular performance.
Fast forward to high school, and dance was starting to get boring. I wasn’t really into anymore. I thought I would try out drama. It seemed fun, and some of my friends were into it.
I tried out for the one act, and got cast in the one of the leading roles. I worked my ass off practicing for that show. Then during the final scene my mind went blank. I forgot everything. I just stared at the guy in front of me. He adlibbed and we made it through, but I was horrified.
That Monday back in drama class, my teacher looked at me and said, “You can’t memorize for shit.” I just stared at her, trying not to cry. A part of me shit down that day.
I had already spent all weekend feeling horrible about myself. I ruined the show. I didn’t need to be shamed for it on top of it all. I’ve carried that shame around with me for years, not wanting to try much of anything outside of my comfort zone because I will only manage to let everyone down.
The Logic of It All
It’s odd. People often say to me, “but you waited tables for so long?!” It’s not the same thing. Reciting specials and memorizing orders is no w ay near the same as putting your heart and soul into something, praying that just one person whispers “yes” under their breath.
In my brain is the mom from Carrie screaming at her “They’re all going to laugh at you.” Then comes the pig’s blood.
I know logically that I am making way too much of this, but it’s tough when there is trauma involved. It weaves itself into different aspects of your life. Sometimes I am not even sure how it all happened, how I got caught up in it all.
Here is what I do know: I don’t want a lifetime of regrets. I want a lifetime of “Whoops! I fucked that up bad, but look at what I’ve learned?” What if I don’t do it? What if I never try? I am not sure I am willing to sit with that.
I know what my problems are. (well, a few of them) I am working through those, slowly at a turtle’s pace. I feel like I am slowly poking my head out of my shell in a way. Shit is scary!
Isn’t that a part of this crazy thing called life? Fucking it up and figuring it out.
Okay, I’m going to go watch Coyote Ugly again and attempt to do something courageous.
Mad love, Jenna
