Tuesday, August 4, 2009

The Truth About Confidence


For anyone who has seen a Shine Through program or has read Falcon’s Prey or Lymeria, you probably picked up a pretty obvious “Confidence is the way of the future!” vibe. For six plus years, I have been using writing as an esteem booster, and for four of those years, I have used motivational speaking to encourage others to find their own ways to gain confidence. But it was only this past summer that I myself learned the most important thing about confidence.
It came like a slap in the face. Simple, easy, obvious, and smarted like no one’s business. Why hadn’t I realized it before? It’s not like the idea was so otherworldly that I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming. The scary thing was that it was all so there, like a shop window you pass on your way to school, but fail to notice. Then, on a rainy day, as you find shelter under the awning after dejectedly walking home from missing the bus, you notice. How could you have not seen the beautiful things inside?
I have been practicing the art of self esteem my whole life. I have also enjoyed the fine sport of a good challenge. So, naturally, when I was shoved into the role of Lola in Damn Yankees a few weeks ago, I accepted the character as a worthy opponent. Boy was I in for a ride.
During the short breath of air before senior year, I discovered just how tough one of my biggest fears truly sized up to be. Lola was a fierce, sassy Latin seductress who drove men wild and got all the big dance numbers. I am a short, operatic piece of white bread who giggles at uncomfortable intervals and dropped out of tap class in the seventh grade after the first day. Nonetheless, I announced my determination and dedication to both the director and choreographer with a brave face and mounting courage. It wasn’t long till I was stepping on everyone’s feet and being told that my “sexy” voice sounded like Forrest Gump. It was turning into a long summer.
Opening night came on a Thursday. A long Thursday. A hot, sticky, muggy Thursday.
Being a veteran of the theater since age six, I had only occasionally experienced the butterflies and the shakes. Acting has always been, well, my thing. And I was always proud of the hard work I put in to make each performance my best. On that stifling, suffocating Thursday, I was perfectly ill.
Stage fright. Was I seriously falling victim to stage fright? Well, first the nausea, then the headache, and as I popped a Tylenol for the abdominal pain, my teeth chattered so loud that my friend offered me his jacket…in August. It was stage fright, the bane of the acting world, the vampire that seemed to suck all confidence out of my jugular. I felt the cold breeze of terror slide beneath the walls and through the cracks of my one true stronghold. After years of struggling with my self esteem, with bullies and loneliness, I had never once thought that my acting could ever be the target.
I moved out of the dressing room, where most of the cast sat in a messy circle singing the Beatles, and wandered off into the wings, or the side of the stage where everything was blindingly dark. I didn’t want to be seen in all my nervous glory. As I clung to the curtain ropes and tried desperately not to hyperventilate, I pondered.
Why this? Why now? I was finally at the moment in my life where things seemed perfect. My whole life I had wanted half of what I have earned over the past few years, and I can’t possibly be more grateful for it all. I have ventured far from being the friendless, overly-obsessive fat kid. I even refused to do many things that I loved out of fear of judgment and disappointment. Now, I have more friends than I can count, am starring in roles I had only ever dreamed of playing, am the author of two novels, have had the opportunity to reach out to young people across the nation, am complimented on my previously non-existent sense of style, and I’m loving life more and more each day. I thought that, if I could valiantly vanquish Lola in all her skimpy costumes and Charo-esque accent, I would finally have reached the top of my mountain, and could sit back and enjoy the view from my throne.
So it’s obvious why that slap in the face hurt so much. I realized, after sprinting uphill to receive my prize of a life’s supply of self esteem, I would never be able to.
Confidence is not a destination, but a sometimes bumpy, always scenic road that can lead you nowhere but up.
At the moment, I was struggling through a pothole.
The lights on the stage faded to black and I realized in a panicky hiccup of time that it was my turn to go on. Still keeping my head high, but feeling my knees tremble, I felt my way across the stage and sat on the chair placed slightly stage left, my heart pounding louder than the percussion from the orchestra below.
I had about twenty seconds to collect my thoughts and keep myself from fainting. What was I supposed to do now? The realization that I could never have perfect confidence was enough to throw me off balance, and with the added stage fright, I needed to resolve things fast. So, even if I completely conquered the Lola beast there and then, I would not be the queen of anything. Okay, that didn’t help…
But if I overcame my insecurities anyway, I would still be proud of my performance and still have a lot more self esteem than when I started. Better… And, if I knew that I would always have challenges to face, Lola wouldn’t seem so monstrous. Getting warmer… And most importantly, if I let go of all my inhibitions with this show, and realized that I was no superman, then I would be able to relax and enjoy the challenges and rewards that life would bring with a brave heart and a deeper appreciation. A little preach-y but as close to perfect as it would get with three seconds to go…
I took a deep breath. The lights came up.
And I had the time of my life.
So now, with Damn Yankees behind me and a life of improvement before me, I feel just fine. Knowing that I will always have a battle to fight makes me stronger. And knowing that my confidence will only grow brighter whether I win or lose makes me look to the future. We are all capable of making ourselves just a little better than we were the day before. That piece of proverbial comfort food may be just what we need to push ourselves just a little farther each day.
It gives us a gratitude for the things we have and the excitement to try new things. Confidence is always right beside us, waiting for our permission to give us a little nudge or a great leap to do what we never dreamed possible. So pack your sunscreen and charge your cameras. The long road of confidence is a beautiful thing. Snap a few pictures. Write a few postcards. And above all, enjoy the journey.