I remember a time when I wanted so badly to be recognized, to be seen and known. I think it’s ingrain in me somewhere out of a need for attention. Why else would someone go into acting when they had always wanted to be a veterinarian?
I think now it’s because I always had a story in me. I had stories to tell and I wanted someone to hear me. Someone being many…being the whole of my home town, and maybe the nearest local city…or maybe the city that was alive in my dreams…
Being known is scary.
For people to really see you? That’s terrifying…but not really real.
I’ve been exposed recently. It wasn’t my goal…it was an outcome of a goal of mine that I proudly achieved. I hadn’t thought beyond that accomplishment though. I had no idea that I’d be able to google my name or that I’d receive emails from people who wanted to tell my story. Why would anyone want that?
It’s addictive. And euphoric. And intimidating. And terrifying.
It runs away from you before you ever get a chance to hold it in your hands. It flies and covers more space and time than you ever thought possible and then suddenly…more suddenly than you’re willing to accept…it will disappear. It hasn’t yet for me. I’m still flying and giving interviews and discovering new photos of me.
Only no one is really listening now…two days later…except for those trying to make a story out of me. Trying to be the first. Cover the angle no one has covered.
I’ve thought about the next time. Honestly, I’ve started PLANNING for the next time. Why not? Why would I miss a chance to experience the last day and a half again? I would do it all again for that day and a half. A whole year of planning for that day and a half.
I’ve never done well with letting things go.