It's Worth Fighting For.

08 July, 2018

Being a studio artist or writer (or whatever it is I'm trying to do here) is NOT a rewarding career- only slightly more so than that of an actor, dancer, or musician. I have always been told that even though people love those things, and I wanted them more than anything, they are not worth fighting for. They will not support you and because you do not have the talent for them, they will not love you back.

This however, is not my painfully slow autobiography of how I became a famous dancer or actor, but instead a little bit of me realizing that all art is worth fighting for if you can't shake the idea from your head.

It was so incredibly hard for me to hear as a child that I didn't have what it takes to make it into school plays, that I couldn't dance and I didn't have a voice. I hated myself for it, and I begged myself to love science and to love math. I've begged myself to major in medicine or engineering,  but you can't be told to love something. I'm glad that I write and I draw because it gives me the ability to save myself every single day. There are large parts of me that say if I do what I love then I can never lose. They say that jobs are a trap and money isn't real. Do what you want for as long as you can and life will take you where you need to be. . . but I don't know if any of that is real either.

I don't know how far any of that will take me. I know I'll never make it on Broadway, I know dreams have to be attainable, but there's a small part of me that has always wanted attention, that has always been a dreamer. That part of me is screaming right now, when I need to decide how to live the rest of my life.

So . . . this is the secret I've been keeping from everyone I know: I've starting singing again.

I know how that sounds! I know it's not a big deal, but I'm so scared of being told again that I have nothing to give, the way that people are afraid of skydiving and snakes. I'm knee-shaking-and-sweaty-palms terrified of people shooting me down without knowing how hard I am trying. 

I just started singing in my car a year ago because that was the only place I could truly be alone. I bought all my favorite music and belted my heart out everyday and finally accepted that it's okay to be bad at what you love. That it was okay to have nothing to give and to give it anyway. I found vocal lessons on youtube. I found that after warming up: I started to love to sing and I started to sound good and I started to find talent. And I realized that this is all I have ever wanted to do.

There are parts of me that say I should get a degree in computer engineering before it's too late and there are parts of me that I say I am a unique person and I deserve to share it. That I need to write songs and start a band and a non profit organization and help both the world and myself in the ways I've always wanted to. I know this is going to be my downfall though, thinking that I'm too special and then not making it into the school play. Living with the fear of a normal life and never ever doing anything that makes it worth living.

When I'm older I'll look back at this at laugh. People who are older look at me and a laugh. I am so naive. But if it's all I want with my entire being, how can I be wrong? I know this is how good things start, I know only some people make it and I know that someone has to make it. I want to create, I am creating, and I want to just do something with everything I have and everything I could be. 

Isn't that something?

I owe it to the part of me who sings at the top of my lungs in the car and doesn't car about who is watching. I owe it to the me who has written hundreds of pages of poetry, who choreographs entire albums when no one is watching. The me who listens to music that electrifies, who listens to music that makes me breathless, who sings into my hairbrush and toothbrush and paintbrush. Who spends months on drawings of celebrities, and paintings, and book characters, and can't control all of the things that I want to create but makes them anyway because stopping is a different kind of failure.

I owe it to myself to keep fighting to be on that stage.


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