(Journal, July 28, 2010)
Firsts will always be uncomfortable, awkward and a little bit alien.
Be it your first kiss, first period, first drive alone, first brush with the tampon, first day of college, first heartbreak, first anything and everything, you’re caught a little bit off guard and you find yourself second guessing and self-doubting about every other second. It’s just plain uncomfortable.
My first day here at GSA was my most unnerving experience to date. I’ve never felt so challenged and lost. Besides feigning an accent to be understood, I too, was feigning confidence and nonchalance—a complete failure, mind you. It’s funny how when we try to mask what’s really beneath the surface, the more the truth finds its way out and about.
There I was, lost in a sea of whites. There they were, somehow all looking bigger, better, prettier and more talented than me. Call this yet another pang of insecurity but I couldn’t help but question myself and my sanity for even plunging into this. What the hell was I thinking going to an acting/drama school? What was I expecting? A bunch of misfits without an ounce of talent? Was I trying to comfort myself? Who was I kidding?
These people were here to pursue this as a future career. Individuals aged 17-35, all polishing themselves up for auditions to London’s most prestigious drama schools. And there I was, enamored by it and yet extremely overtaken by my insecurities and doubts.
I’m not going to sit here and have a pity party. It would be totally ridiculous and hypocritical of me to say I’m not talented. While I think it to be true, I have a hard time verbalizing it. I have a hard time saying thank you to compliments, find it difficult to acknowledge what I have and to go beyond all the maddening noise of doubts and insecurities eating at my insides. I know it’s about time I got over the self-pity act and just got on with it. I know. But I still can’t.
The First Day was uncomfortable. It was anything but familiar. It kept me on my toes, kept my eyes and ears peeled, kept my insecurities within arms’ (or even fingers’) reach. It left me vulnerable.
I curse it. I curse the curse of uncomfortable firsts.
Then again, just as firsts turn into seconds and seconds turn into minutes and hours turn into days, we find ourselves adjusting to life’s pace and pattern. We gel into things and ease into a rhythm that becomes less awkward and more comfortable.
If time heals all wounds, it should heal all woes and worries as well.