Invisible

When I was a child, I used to sit in the front row. Front row, center.

My mother played Carmen or Beatrice; always beautiful with a tongue full of poetry. My father played Falstaff or Dogberry, or the role that made him 'the most hated man in Portland.'

Stories. They told stories.

I loved stories. (I love stories).

I would sit there, in the audience, giddily happy & waiting for the lights to dim; engulfed by the intoxicating smells of wine & coffee & perfume that only ladies of a certain age seem to own & bathe in. The sounds of discourse & laughter. The sounds of the orchestra tuning...

I would sit there. And...listen to the women next to me or the older couple behind us, leafing through the program remarking, 'Oh! ____________, we saw him in...! He played...!' or 'Have you seen__________ before?! She is so beautiful!'

And I would have to stifle with all my might the urge to jump up onto my seat, stand up straight & waive to the audience, shouting: THOSE ARE MY PARENTS!! MINE!

.....instead, I would sit quietly, smiling, giggling as though I had the greatest secret of secrets. I could enlighten them to the fact that the daughter of the stars they worshiped were sitting right next to them...but I was far too shy.

And I knew...or realized, very quickly...it wasn't about me. I....was nothing. It was them. They were the stars. And the fact that I could sing & dance & act (and had, even at 5, 10, 15 years old) was unimportant. I was.....a nobody.

...But I was lucky enough to be their daughter.

I think this knowledge has shaped my entire life.

Who are you, if you are nobody?

I am told I am a good actress. Could be a great actress. COULD be. But I'm not. And it has nothing to do with my acting. But with who I am.

...And what I'm afraid of.

I sit in the car. And listen to my sister & how many people worship her & love her & want to be her friend. She is fun. She is skinny & beautiful & what's more she is driven. And what's more than that: she's an actress. People love you when you are famous. Even if it's only in a small town. They want something untouchable. They want something beautiful. They want art & story & the life they seem to think belongs to that. Funny though, how even the professional actors I know still seem to be trying to find that in what they do... 

My sister is in film & on stage. In 2 years in Portland, most of the entire community knows who she is. In 7 years, a handful of those same people might say hi to me & most of them would still refer to me as 'T________'s daughter.' In Ashland & elsewhere, I'm my 'L_______'s daughter.' My new name now is 'M__________'s sister.'

At the moment, I am in a friend's house. A friend who has nothing to do with theatre or film, at least not my connection to her. Her kitchen is inhabited by a few people I do not know (roommates & such) and they are talking about a television show, filming in Portland; how one of their friends has become a production assistant. 

I had to bite my tongue. I had to bite my tongue & swallow hard to keep from saying: 'I was almost called in for that! You know I'M an actress too! I...I...I...?!' 

I had to swallow hard & keep from saying that my ex-boyfriend, who will not speak to me anymore, just guest starred on the latest episode...  What his name is. I had to keep from starting that conversation...

        .....which would only lead to, 'oh! you went out with HIM?! He's so beautiful, he's so wonderful! You went out with an actor?!'  

         Famous. Fame.

...Which leads to the conversation where I start to cry because of what love is & what it's not and what I miss & who I am....and what I haven't said out loud, yet:   (Not even to myself).

          ........about what one person can handle. Jealousy. And being invisible.

I am eclipsed. And I am fighting to be seen.

I am trying. And I am failing: because in the end, it just isn't me.

I want to be important. 

And I am out-shadowed by everyone close to me in my life. I could not be that one more time. And I cannot compete. I do not want to compete. I want to have attention. I want to be special. We all want to be special.

But I don't want to fight for it. I want it because of who I am. Because I deserve it. And whether I love to tell stories or not; whether I am a good actress or singer or anything....or not...has nothing to do with it. I am trying to be someone else.

I want to be me.

I am overcast by other people's shadows, in my life. But I am larger than that. Greater than that. I want to be. And I am. A everyone & anyone is. I don't want to be a shadow. I also don't want to fight for the light. 

       .....I want my own.

I can sing & dance & act. I am a visual artist & a writer. And a martial artist. And a chef. And a good friend (sometimes, or try to be). And good with kids (or try to be). Good with animals (mostly).

So....why do I feel like I always have to put myself on display? Like I am worth nothing. Like I have to prove myself to someone. everyone.

               

When you are not special; when you are not famous: who are you...?

Hello. My name is nobody.

Nice to meet you.

I don't want to be that........But I don't want to try. 

I want peace & quiet. I want love & to explore. I want passion & living.

               I want you to know who I am.

... Because I'm me.

But most of all.....I don't want to be afraid.

Of  'Nobody.'