Finding My Voice

Exactly what it says. The girl who has proclaimed "I can't write!" on a weekly basis is ... well ... writing.

Thursday, May 29, 2008

"My Voice" has been mute lately

I suppose I have a solid excuse - preoccupation with other ... things. Truth is, I have a LOT on my mind. And a lot to share. But sometimes finding the energy to do anything above and beyond the things I've already committed to do in a day is difficult.

I'm working on that.

I'm working on a lot of things. One day at a time and all that.

It's the end of the school year. It's the time of year where I sit in classrooms, listening to kids speak for an hour about their lives, about where they've been and where they're going.

I've said many times that I don't believe in regret. Or at least not dwelling on it. The past is the past and as such, completely unchangeable. I'm much better at being proactive, focusing on the future. Apologize for the mistake, mourn the loss, sulk about the poor choice or the bad luck ... and then move on.

But it's hard to listen to those kids and not think long and hard about the choices I made, and the choices made for me. It's hard not to think about what I wanted to do vs. what I actually did.

I don't ACTUALLY regret my choices (or those made for me). I like where I am now, and I wouldn't be here had I gone in any other direction. If I had done anything else in my college years, I wouldn't know Marissa or Maria, or any of my other dear dear friends who I stayed close to or reconnected with right here in LA. If I had gone to grad school, I wouldn't have "the boys", Michael and Dane.

And if all of the things that happened in my life that led me to LA when I did hadn't happened, would I have met my husband? Or the amazing people in my life?

But sometimes, when I think of the opportunities these kids have, I think about the choices I made. And the ones taken out of my hands.

What could be taken out of my hands? Being told I was skipping 5th grade. I don't think I actually had a choice there. Or if I had one, I doubt I fully understood it. That choice made for me at the ripe old age of 9 was probably the biggest thing to touch my life, in terms of shaping who I'd become, at least until I discovered theatre.

Sure, the truth was, I ended up bored in class and scoring off the charts on standardized tests even AFTER the grade was skipped. (I don't know why moving me to an elementary school that might actually challenge me wasn't an option, but there we are.) And I know everybody was doing the best they could (though many years later, my mother confessed that she knew in her heart of hearts that the school skipped us because they had too many fifth graders and not enough sixth.)

I was enough of a geek in my own right, but starting high school at 12 just made things worse.

Graduating high school at 16 left me with limited options. I was smart enough to know that I wasn't ready to be on my own, so my option pretty much was to live at home and go to the local university. My intention had been to do two years, and then transfer to another school, somewhere out of state, with a great theatre program. Reality check: after two years, I had amazing friends, a life I didn't want to leave. My choice, yes.

But now, I look at these kids, and as they talk about dorms and independence and junior years abroad and travel ... the things I missed out on ...

It's silly, I guess, for someone who doesn't linger on regret. But I think this is a year of reflection for me, sort of by default, isn't it.