I think I have potentially talked enough about my little mini-kind-of breakdown at the end of the big sexual assault story. So, hopefully this is not overkill with one more post on it.
Sometimes, when I talk about the “piece of me” I lost, it’s the piece who’s comfortable around men or loves sex or whatever… But there are multiple pieces of me that I feel were grabbed away during all of this – that I was trying desperately to get back. And this post talks about those.
In my free weeks after The Nightly Show, I stopped in Ohio. And all these memories smashed me in the face when I looked through all these old boxes of my stuff. (That’s one of the main reasons I went to Ohio – to try to go through anything I had remaining at my parent’s house…)
I was running away from both New York and musical theater – two things I had worked practically my whole life to get to…
And I opened box after box of playbills, and scripts of shows I’d been a part of, and I [heart] New York nick-knacks, and stuff from my summer camp at Juilliard.
I still had notes and books from my classes at Berklee. I had instruments there. I even had a sign that said “I would rather die than not be a musician.”
There was stuff spanning over a decade of my life that all revolved around music and theater. I liked that girl – the girl who lived for all of that.
And recently, it seems like she’s been hiding. And I cried and I cried and I cried when I opened those boxes.
Because not was I missing the musical theater part of me. I also saw all these sweet thank you cards from across the years. And every one of them talked shared some version of my bright sunny attitude. And I thought, “Am I that person still? I’m bawling my eyes out now. So, I don’t feel like that person. Would these people think the same things of me now? Am I living up to what people expect me to be?”
I also found this book my high school theater teacher had gotten me that she’d inscribed. It was so preciously sweet. And she said that I showed her what grace under pressure is – what grace under pressure is! She said I had poise (in all caps!).
And we have just spent a 12 part series detailing how I thought I stumbled and faltered. I didn’t feel I had grace under pressure or poise… I mean, I guess technically, I was poised sometimes when he was baiting me, but I really feel I made a lot of mistakes.
So, do I have that at all? Am I okay under pressure? Am I the person my high school theater teacher thought of me as – the same girl she believed in?
It was immensely painful going through all the stuff… The hope is, is that girl isn’t gone forever. The hope is I “come back” and all those things make sense. But my goodness, the timing of that was gutting.