This might be an interesting story all by itself. A little girl full of dreams that were bigger than the moon. She wanted to visit France and become a veterinarian and dance in The Nutcracker. She begged her mom for a doctors kit and ballet lessons and cheer tryouts. She did every activity she could cram into her schedule all throughout grade school. Her parents obliged, assuming they were phases and that she would eventually settle into something more suitable and realistic. And overall, they were just that. Phases. She bounced from one activity to another, nothing being necessarily the right fit. Her parents continued to oblige, however they hinted at their desire for her to become a nurse or a lawyer- a real job. But the little girl never stopped bouncing, as she had so many aspirations and so little time. She grows up, a little bit, and often speaks of herself in the third-person, in the hopes that the little girl will never lose hold on her dreams.

I always loved performing most of all. Acting, singing, dancing - I was never particular to just one. My parents reluctantly supported, still hoping I would pursue math or science. Again, a real job. They became less and less supportive the day I told them I wanted to be a performer. They couldn’t understand why someone would go and pursue something so unreliable when a physician or even a teacher has a more steady income. My performances became inconveniences instead of a chance to support their only daughter. They would end up having a last minute meeting, or becoming very ill. They would use my younger brother as an excuse to leave early. They would book vacations during my last choir concert of the school year. However, I would not stop performing. I shook off the disappointment and marched on stage with a smile. Supportive or not, this was the dream I was holding onto the most. Whether or not they decided to show up, I would continue to pour my heart out on stage, a feeling of accomplishment washing over me during the final bows. The overwhelming joy and excitement I got from yelling at another actor on stage or singing along to Les Miserable overrode their disapproval. I was surrounded by so many friends and teachers who were equally as passionate, and became a second family. They cheered the loudest for me during curtain call, and held me together when my heart broke a tiny bit more when I didn’t see my parents at the door. In the end, this fueled me to want to become an actor even more. The thought of creating stories from scripts and the ability to watch people do what they love out of my direction makes me shiver with excitement. I decided I would not give in. With or without their support, I was doing this. I was going to work my butt off and be able to live my dream. They didn’t need to understand my devotion; they just needed to know I wasn’t going to stop. 

I refused to give up. I was arrogant. I was immature. I was tenacious. I had finally found the dream that gave me satisfaction, and I was not letting it go without a fight. I refused to let them make me give it all up. I refused to stop making people laugh during my breakout role as a hooker in Sister Act. I refused to stop dancing my heart out in a performance of Don’t Stop Me Now. I refused to focus all my energy into becoming something I’m not. I refused to stop pursuing what I love. I refused to give in. I had found the one dream that filled the little girl with so much joy. This dream was not a phase. I was trying to give that little girl a purpose.