story-telling

A Girl’s Best Friend

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“And that, I dare say, is that,” she said to no one in particular as she gave the diamond in her newly acquired engagement ring one last look.

Its size and sparkle were inarguable, and it would be absolutely impossible for Bitsy Simons to ignore at tonight’s soiree.

And with that, she went to join her fiancé – a rather dull-witted man who offered social standing and excessive wealth if nothing else – and to finally get payback for Bitsy’s disinviting her from her coming out party the year before.

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: sparkle

You’ve Been Served

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“Mercy me!” she exclaimed to no one in particular as she almost dropped the full tray of assorted cookies she had just painstakingly arranged and was about to take out to serve to members of the Ladies of the Lake Tea Group.

Looking down to see what had created the slip that had almost been her undoing, she eyed a small pool of what appeared to be milk on the linoleum floor – evidence of what could surely be deemed criminal carelessness, as just moments before, against her better judgement, she had succumbed to pressure from Myrna to allow her to serve the coffee, a mistake that reinforced her privately held poor opinion of Myrna’s character.

She took it upon herself to rearrange the cookies and the more arduous task of rearranging her expression from one of annoyance to one of the pleasant politeness she was known for, and with an almost imperceptible sigh, she headed out to return to the girls.

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: mercy

Coffee Break

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With the tiniest of wry little smiles, she thought to herself, “I have a rather droll sense of humor, don’t I?”

Anyone who might have been looking her way would have thought to themselves, “Now that is an intriguing woman,” but sadly, no one was looking her way at just that moment.

And just like that, her face returned to its usual arrangement, a bespoke blend of earnest effort and fatigue, as she went to top off table eleven’s coffee cups.

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word prompt: droll

Cat O’Nine Tale

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“I am not entirely sure that I have not completely lost my mind,” she dubiously said, both to no one in particular and to her reflection in the mirror.

Just then, Mr. Worthing, a somewhat jocular orange tabby, chose to avail himself of the ribbon that trailed from the new rather large hat that sat on her head.

Within seconds, both she and the hat were in a tattered heap on the floor, whilst Mr. Worthing scattered off with a satisfied shake of his tail.

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word prompt: dubious

Pump Talk

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“Way to go, Genius!” he said to no one in particular as he realized that the gas he’d been pumping was spurting out onto his hand and dribbling down his pant’s leg.

He released the handle and hurriedly put it back in its cradle, and then shook his hand and leg simultaneously while shaking his head in reprimand for having caught himself daydreaming again.

“Well, that’s what you get Old Boy,” he said with a gentler tone, again to no one in particular. As was often the case in such situations, he was abrasive with himself at first, turning compassionate after a bit, as he knew that he’d always been a daydreamer and probably always would be a daydreamer.

No sense berating a skunk for its stripe, he thought, pleased that he’d found such a fitting analogy. “Let’s get a move on then,” he said with a bit of pep. And as he pulled away from the station, a tune found his lips and he started to whistle.

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: genius

Veiled Intent

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She was always fashionably late, and was certainly not going to change stripes this late in the game.

They could all just await her presence. After all, wasn’t this supposed to be her big day?

She poured another sherry, and returned to the debate of veil or no veil. It felt as if her entire future happiness was dependent on this decision.

Her mother felt the veil was gaudy. The seamstress who had created it was understandably biased in its favor.The dresser had an opinion but no one asked it of her.

She gazed at her reflection, and contemplated herself from her own superior taste. The veil felt right, but some adjustment to the angle was needed.

She set her face back into its public expression and unlocked the boudoir door, ready at last to enter into her future.

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: fashionable

Risk Aversion*

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I read my writing aloud in public for the first time two weeks ago.

I began this blog a year and a half ago as a way for me to begin to break the silence and shame I felt inside.

You see, I grew up in an environment that encouraged me to suppress my feelings and my true thoughts. In essence, I learned to hide my truth.

Because of things that had happened to me when I was young, I was afraid that to speak my truth would bring pain to others in my family. I needed their love, so I learned very early on to present a version of me that would be pleasing for them and others. It was literally a matter of survival, keeping my truth hidden.

Additionally, problems in our family were not acknowledged verbally for the most part. We pretended to each other they did not exist. If it was something that absolutely could not be hidden, there was a real strong pressure to keep the family problems secret, to keep them inside the home. I was not verbally warned not to seek help. But I knew it was considered dangerous.

So I learned to keep my true self buried deep inside, hidden far away from my family, and from the outside world.

I got so good at it, I lost touch with my own true self. I had hidden it so well, it became hidden from even myself.

I am a performer, so I need to be able to use my truth to reveal the truths of the characters I play. I learned to go deep within, but I found that as much as I loved bringing what I could to my work, there were internal tensions that made it very challenging. And so I began to embark on unraveling those tensions, to see what was underneath, to find more freedom and to expand my capacity to reveal through my work.

It has been an amazing process. I did not set out to, but I have ended up finding my self in the process. I’ve been making a deep excavation within, bringing out the remains into the light.

It has been excruciating at times, terrifying, wondrous, exquisite, mind-blowing, beautiful, sad beyond belief. But most of all, it has been a becoming whole.

In the process of finding me, I discovered that I wanted to be able to own and share my truth without fear or shame. So I started to practice doing so.

First in small, safe ways. To trusted people. Then, I began increasing the risk level, expanding my level of comfort by extending myself into the world in ever-widening circles.

This blog has been a hugely gratifying experience. It has been so important for me share my true internal experience, my real creativity, here. There have been times I have felt so fearful after hitting the publish button…it has felt so risky…what if someone in my family reads it? What will they think of me? If people know this or that, will they see me differently? Will they judge me, label me, only see me this way or that?

I realized that I was so afraid of only being seen for what has happened to me or what I have done, the mistakes I have made, or what I have NOT done or accomplished. I didn’t have a sense of being valuable just as I am, not what I do, did, will do, haven’t done.

The blog and posting has been stretching me in so many great ways. It has also helped me learn to let go of needing to be seen a certain way in order to feel valuable, safe or lovable.

What I did not expect was how amazing it would be to have people read and then reach out to share back. That has been and continues to be such a gift. (So thank you.)

And then, I had the opportunity to submit a piece I adapted from a blog post for an evening of work written by women on what it means to identify as a woman.

When I began writing this blog, I had never, ever intended to read my work anywhere, but there I was, sending it in, in hopes of being chosen, so I could share my work live, in person. (What?!)

When it was selected, I was ecstatic. And terrified.

Every childhood-conditioned muscle in my body was braced for trouble. Every old voice that wanted to keep me silent was working on my psyche: Who was I to think I had something of value to share? What if I upset people? What if someone was unhappy with what I had to say?

In the week before the event, I was questioning my sanity in having chosen to do it.(What was I thinking?! Why was I putting myself through this?!)

The fear and the voices continued right up until showtime and as the first readers read their work.

And then, my name was called. My turn. I gathered together my courage and began the long walk down the aisle, my heart pounding in my chest.

And then three steps from center stage, I suddenly felt something click inside. When I stepped into the light, I just knew in my bones that I was in the right place at the right time. I felt a sense of home inside. I felt warm. I felt safe.

What an amazing experience! It was an experiment, but it turns out I love sharing my words live, and also experiencing the words of the others involved. Who knew?

I am so grateful to whatever healing force inside me has been leading me on this journey to be free. It is a beautiful thing to break free of the shackles of one’s own past and to be able to freely express one’s own self.

*(Written 10/17/17, but I used a draft from Oct. 1 and didn’t realize I needed to change the date before publishing it! So here it remains, looking like I wrote it Oct. 1. But I promise I wrote it 10/17/17.)

Reposted in Response to The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: risky

Shaken, Not Stirred

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“I find the whole idea of relevance irrelevant,” she said with a firm toss of her jet black bob before draining the contents of her martini.

And with that, all further conversation on the matter was ended.

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: irrelevant

Pay It Forward

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Commit yourself to a mighty purpose.

– H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

I was saved, in large part, by reading and acting.

Growing up, my friends, my hope, my pleasure, my education all came from what I watched and read. As this was before the internet, this meant books, magazines, television shows and movies.

I had friends, sure. And a family. But I didn’t trust most people, with good reason due to early trauma. So I turned to other resources for help. To what was available to me as a child: books and television.

Through them, I could enter into other worlds and become a part of them. This saved me from the intense loneliness I felt, the extreme “otherness.”

I have no doubt that were it not for books and movies, I would have descended into a kind of madness that might not have turned out so well.

Fortunately, I had a library and a television at my disposal. They brought me works that gave me hope that another life could be made for myself. They gave me company. They gave me connection.

Today, as I navigate my life as a performer and as a writer, I can think of no higher purpose for myself than to create work that can do the same for someone else.

I am on a never-ending quest to examine and understand both the light and the dark sides of human behavior. I’m drawn to works that explore and celebrate the human spirit. Stories of how people rise above the problems of life and the human condition to make change and follow their hearts. I have a soft spot for the seemingly ordinary moments and people in life: the underdog; the unsung heroes; the quiet, small moments that can sometimes hold a lifetime.

It’s my mission to collaborate deeply and bravely as an actor and singer with all of the people who make up a production, so that together we can create stories to inspire, educate, elicit, and evoke. To wake people up so that they may live life more fully and authentically and to embrace their lives.

I also volunteer as a reader with SAG-AFTRA Foundation’s BookPALS program. I read storybooks to kindergartners in hopes of sparking a lifelong relationship between children, reading and books that I hope will help them navigate the murkier waters of growing up, of life.

That is my mighty purpose. What is yours?

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: mighty

Date with Destiny

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I knew.

Before it happened, I could feel it.

It almost didn’t happen.

If I hadn’t been on just that road at just that time.

His car passing my overheated one as I sat in it, seemed so…miraculous.

I’d not seen another car for at least an hour.

After realizing I ‘d no cell service, I’d kind of lost it. Then I calmed myself down, surrendering to the dawning reality that I was not going to make it to my friend’s wedding on time.

The fact that he stopped seemed so…amazing.

And he seemed so…genuine. (And kind of cute.)

Hope leapt into my chest like a butterfly. I could still make it!

I grabbed my bag and climbed into the passenger seat of his rather nondescript, conservative car. I took a deep breath in and thanked him again, settling in for the ride.

That’s when I felt it, as I looked down and checked that my cell was in its side pocket in my purse. The visceral dread in my gut.

I don’t know what changed, why suddenly everything that seemed so right suddenly felt so wrong.

But as I heard the car door locks click to “locked,” I knew I’d made a mistake.

And just as I looked up and felt the blade of a knife plunge into my waist, into the place where I feel most vulnerable, where it is a scary mix of ticklish fear to be touched, I saw that he knew that I knew I’d made a terrible mistake.

And as I left my body and watched what he did to my body from above, it all seemed so very, very…clear, and so very, very…inevitable.

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: visceral