The Places We Go.
January 31, 2011 § Leave a comment
I was always dreaming big. I wanted to get out of my hometown. It suffocated me. It felt stuffy and rigid and stuck. Like everything was backward. I was the big fish in the small pond. I traveled to Europe thanks to a dance scholarship to the Czech Republic living in the city, Ostrava, on its eastern border. There I danced in the ballet academy being coached to perform the black swan variation from Swan Lake and the pas de duex from Romeo and Juliet for the Gala. I wanted a job so bad. I wanted to stay there, but they didn’t want me. ‘
But I wasn’t ready to give up.
I moved to NYC living there for two years. I think I changed there. I felt small. I was small. I was insignificant. I was nobody. I was worthless. I did not have the body to be a ballet dancer in NYC. Technique, drive and talent was not enough. I did not look the part and so I gave up. I tried to find another niche. I tried jazz and hip hop where I could hang, but I did not love it.
I was working so much that I did not get to dance that much. My dream felt like someone else dreamed it. How could I ever have deluded myself into thinking I could dance? What a waste of a life. I did not take care of myself, I did not feel like I was worth it. I hated myself. I hated my life. I begged my parents to let me move home, but they refused saying it was not a good time for them. I sunk lower and lower into a depression.
The places we go when we are alone. The places we go where no one can find us.
I moved home. I was not the same person. The dry wind hurt my eyes and cracked my skin. My hometown felt so big. I felt so cold and alone with the wide open spaces. Too wide. Too open. I don’t really remember my first week home. I said I was jet lagged and stayed in bed. My curtains were closed. My door was closed. I closed my eyes and hoped everything would go away. The terrible memories in NYC. That concrete jungle that chewed me up and spit me out.
I started summer school. I mean, I might as well get on with my life. The ONLY classed that were a still open when I registered was intro to theater and something else that i don’t remember. The class was held in HBT. I had no idea where that was. I circled the theater at school 3 times until I figured out that HBT stood for Howard Brubeck Theater. I walked inside. I knew I was home. I mean, I could not remember that last time I had been in a theater. I missed it. I was supposed to go to another class in another room afterward, but I did not want to leave. The next class in the theater was an acting class. I ditched the class I was supposed to go to and just sat in the back. I ended up adding the acting class and being scared out of my mind to get on stage and perform. I could not break out of my shell. I did not even make any friends in the acting class because I didn’t talk. But I watched everything. I absorbed most things….. and I wanted more.
During fall semester I tried another acting class. I talked and made friends and broke out of my shell. I loved it. I auditioned and was cast in the first play of the semester….. I mean, I had no idea what I was doing, but I loved the process of rehearsal and performing. I finally had a goal.
The places we have traveled affect how we see things. I don’t feel suffocated or stale here. And I don’t feel like the world is too big for me to handle. Now when I drive in my hometown I have a destination. When the warm air blows on my face it comforts me and I know I am home. I can breathe here. I can finally speak.