The Quest

I have a happy life.  A husband who doesn’t snore and gives amazing backrubs.  A genius baby with dimples to boot.  I have a wonderful family and good friends and even a little bird who poops on my shoulder, which I don’t mind.  So why do I get so sad? 

 

This is what was supposed to happen:  After great success in high school (I was that annoying girl who always got the lead in the school musical), I was supposed to go to New York, study theatre, and then, you know – amaze the world.  Dance and sing and act on Broadway to general acclaim.  I would have many fabulous love affairs, meet fascinating people, wear pretty costumes, and soak up the stage lights.

 

Here’s what actually happened:  I went to New York.  Studied theatre.  Had some… let’s say intense… love affairs.   And – that’s it.  After a couple years, I went home to Phoenix.  I never went to a single audition.  I never even tried. 

 

Everybody believed in me, and I let them all down.

 

At the time, I told myself and everyone else that it turned out theatre wasn’t for me.  That might be true, but how can I really know if I never even tried?  I can’t know.  I don’t know.  I had a dream, and I didn’t fail to reach that dream, I just never even gave my dream a fighting chance to come true.

 

So now I have a happy little family, but I’ve learned that with a new baby comes a handy dandy identity crisis.  Now I’m “Mommy.”  And I love it.  But what about that other chick that loved to dance and sing and act?  Am I “Mommy” – period?  Or do I want to add some slashes to my identity – Mommy/Actress, for instance?  And what do I tell my daughter when she’s older and asks me about my experiences in New York?  I don’t want to tell her that I just…gave up.

 

So I came up with this project.  I am 34 ½.  I turn 35 next March.  And I’m giving myself six months to get on stage.  Not on Broadway – I’m not crazy.  Something…anything here in Phoenix will do quite nicely.  I’d like to find out once and for all the answers to these questions:

 

Do I have what it takes?

Do I have the guts to try?

Is this still my dream, or is it time to let it go?

 

So that is my quest – like I call it, “one mom’s quest to get on stage or just get on with it.”  My husband Ken said I should just call it, “One mom’s quest to shit or get off the pot.”  I’m sure he meant that in a deeply loving way.  Besides, he’s got a point.  I’m making this a public quest (I love how ‘quest’ makes me sound like some kick-ass lady-knight, when really I’m just singing and twirling) for two reasons – one, I need some sort of accountability or I’ll never do it, and two, I’m hoping there might be some folks out there (moms, theatre geeks, and anybody who ever really wanted to do something and never got around to it) who understand where I’m coming from and might like to come along for the ride.  … So here we go.