gomommyblogger: Failure is Inevitable, Day 61: 100 Days to Brave (Advent Day 23, My Perfectly Executed Lines and a Girl On Fire)

For years of my childhood (and adult life, too- let's just be real honest), I have wanted to act.
In plays.
On Broadway.
In movies and a sitcom which I would happily co-star, I'm not terribly selfish, after all.

The thing abut wanting to act is that I lacked the self-confidence to think I could actually do this well, so I mostly ignored this desire.
But it was there.

As a forth grader I pretended something was dragging me away from my kitchen while screaming and trying to "get away" from it. My acting was so convincing that my cousin and sister both told me how eerie it was and what.the.heck.!!??

I knew I was a natural: this was a gift.

In the sixth grade, I answered the call for "interested actors" in my area and my father drove me to the local mall to audition. I wore my favorite dress, which had skinny red and white stripes on the top and jean on the bottom. It was an empire waist dress and, ya'll, I would wear it even today.

Although I was really nervous, my dad practiced with me over and over, "pardon me, do you have any grey poupon?". I laughed with my dad and ultimately told him I wanted to go home because, remember, the self-confidence was still in hiding.

But then, my senior year of high school, something happened. I auditioned for our school play.
As I waited for my name to be called, I watched, scrutinizingly, each classmate before me enter stage right and say the one given line: "Papa, do you think I'm beautiful?".

It was probably the worst line for a girl like me, already timid to present myself before my classmates, but now, profess some form of beauty invitation? Was I lovable, to my "father"? To my classmates?

Abilene Community Center

Eventually it was my turn and I was so very nervous, but I did it. I did it well.

Acting shy, I stood, eyes darting from the floor to my classmate portraying my "father". I played with my hair in the way I imagined I would if I was having this actual conversation with my father. I paused between "papa" and my question of him.
I executed the line with precision and enunciation; With conviction, and with perfect timing.

And with gutso overwhelming her everything, Alicia Keys starts singing:

This Girl Is On Fire!!!!

I felt it. I knew I had done well.

Well enough for a spot in the play's choir.
No leading role.
No minor role.
A blend of voices and faces, hidden in the back.

I wish I could write that I did the choir and nailed it, but I didn't. I just dropped out.

Be Brave:

I keep a dry-erase marker in my bathroom

so I can write notes on my mirror.

Grab one for yourself, and write on your mirror,

"I am deeply loved by God."

Leave it there for one week and see how it impacts your heart.

I confess that there have been many days when I wondered if I was loved and if I was lovable. This memory with my dad is one of my favorite. I truly believe he was rooting for me.

Annie writes: I think it's really nice when other people remind you that you are loved. I walk through every day, winning or losing, with that truth in mind.

Advent: It's Ho-Ho!!