My Voice

I wasn't going to write anything today, yet here I am.

A few nights ago, as I stood on a field watching soccer practice and chatting with some of the other parents, my phone vibrated.

It was an email.

A message from the director of the Denver production of Listen To Your Mother, asking me to audition.

The auditions were originally supposed to take place yesterday, and I was okay with that.  The storm was coming, and I'd have an excuse to beg off.  To say thank you, but no thank you.

Then they pushed it back to next week, assigned me a time.

I have an audition in six days, and I have no idea what I'm going to do.


I have 2-3 minutes to sell myself.  To make them like me.  I'm leaning towards a serious piece because I think that is a lot easier to convey in a short period of time than humor is.

I posted about how I was completely freaking out about it on my Facebook page, and some of my loveliest fans immediately told me that it would all be fine, that I would rock the audition, that I would do great.

If only I had such confidence in myself.

This, all of this...my writing, the stories I tell, my sense of humor, it's all easier from behind a screen.  It's taken me years and surviving hell a few times to really find my voice here.  To believe in myself again, to use this platform to share information, to raise awareness, to raise money for charity, to do good.  I use it to rant and bitch, to laugh and cry, to process the things I go through personally, even if I almost never actually write about what they are.

This version of me, the one with the Wonder Woman costume kicking ass and taking names, I like her. I like her a lot.

She's good at a lot of things, it's true.

She's never stood on a stage with a microphone and tried to sell it to someone in person, though.

The one time that someone recognized me in public for my blog I was startled and didn't really know what to say.  It was fun, but terrifying.

The people who read what I write, you all, you're real.

I get messages occasionally from some of you, messages that tell me that I helped you somehow, that I made you feel like you weren't the only one going through something, that I inspired you to start writing or take pictures or be silly.  I made you laugh, I made you cry, I made you think.  Those messages keep me going, tell me that I'm doing something worthwhile here.

Sometimes I need that more than you know, mostly because I don't have nearly as much self-confidence as it might seem.

I've doubted a lot of things in the past few years.  Re-evaluated every single piece of my life.  Wondered if I'm where I am supposed to be.  Wondered why things happened the way they did.

I've tried to stop writing a few times.

I can't.

This is who I am.

I'm the girl behind the computer screen.  She's smart and strong and resilient and brave.  She's honest and real and good.  She has integrity, she has depth of character, she is talented.

I have six days to get her to believe she can stand on a stage and convince other people of it all too.

Wish me luck.