I walked in the door from seeing La La Land last night having a lot of feelings so I decided to jot them down.  I was hosting a friend, so instead of diving head first into the writing zone, I decided to make a list of talking points, and return to it later if I felt I still needed to talk about it. 

This is that list I jotted down:

• What if I'm not good enough?
• Auditions
• Wanting to go home
• Seeing your idols in your day to day and longing to be in their shoes/Watching award shows and feeling overcome with emotion because you want that to be you so desperately
• People belittling your career, reducing your talent to your credits
• Having a soulmate that you don't get to end up with because of circumstances

I just woke up, it's a new day, but still, my mind is consumed by this film.  It was easily the most devastating and stunningly truthful film I have seen in a long, long time.  My heart was pulled in a million different directions throughout the movie.  It was like someone laid out every fear I've ever had since I was a little girl, and made a two hour production including every single one.  I sincerely can't remember the last time I was affected like this by a piece of cinema.  I woke up today still overwhelmed and swollen from crying, and I just need to get this out.

La La Land is a film about a young girl trying to make it as an actor in Los Angeles.  She is working as a barista to pay the bills while she runs off to get rejected at every audition she can.  So off the bat, I can kinda sorta relate a tad bit...

She meets a musician, they fall in love.  Most people who will watch the film will see it as as this, a love story.  To me, and to every struggling actor, it was about the painful truth of what it means to be an actor.  All the ups and downs, the hope and the upsets, the steps forward and the setbacks, the expectations and the realities, the broken promises and the cancelled projects.  Every fear I've ever had as an actress is represented in the script and in Emma Stone's performance.  

There is an immeasurable and open-ended number of fears that plague a struggling actor every day.  Thoughts that run through my head almost daily consist of:

• Did I wait too long to start acting professionally?
• Was the fact that I didn't get parts in college a sign that I don't have what it takes?
• What if I'm good, but I just don't have that it-factor to ever get beyond community theater and credits as an extra?
• Am I even good?
• Have I just been delusional my whole life?
• What if I don't make it?  No, seriously.  What if I don't make it?  Am I gonna turn into one of those lonely basket cases on Hollywood Boulevard dressing up as a superhero for some recognition?
• I will not bartend forever.  I will not bartend forever.  I will not bartend forever.  
• I miss New York; I miss my family; what am I doing here?
• What if I die before I become someone?

I do not kid you when I say that these are fears that follow me through every step I take.  It makes you crazy.  Every day I wish that I didn't have this passion.  I wish I wanted to be in business, or a veterinarian, or an architect.  Every day I wish I had chosen a career path that wouldn't haunt me and break my heart so often.

If you've never seen a celebrity in real life and dreamed of the day you could be influencing people with your art like that; if you've never gotten inexplicably emotional watching an award show because you just so desperately want to be amongst that crowd, in a stunning outfit, waiting to hear your name called; if you've never left an audition and just started sobbing because the casting director was eating chips during your scene or staring at your empty resume instead of your face; if you've never been asked, "Have I seen you in anything?" and had to come up with some kind of bullshit response that leaves you with a shred of dignity; if you've never been complimented on your other skills and been told that you "could really do that for a living" as if the dream you've been building your whole life on is unrealistic to even dream about; if you've never watched another god damn social media personality fill a role you could have filled and wondered why the hell you spent four years at a university studying drama if you could have just gotten 50,000 followers instead; if you've never guarded yourself from love because your career comes first; if these are things you do not relate to, then watching La La Land will have been a very different experience for you.  If these are things you relate to, La La Land will rip you apart.  

I don't want to spoil the end for those who haven't seen it, but for those who have, I could barely see the screen through my tears, watching my biggest fear in life and love come to fruition for the character.  I've always been worried that there will one day come a decision I have to make.  A decision between love and success.  You see in all these movies and shows that when a person's career is successful, their personal lives usually suffer.  (Devil Wears Prada anyone?) I've always kind of kept love on the back burner as something I'd only entertain once I became a successful actress.  Can't wait to have a family one day, but not until I'm a successful actress.  I'll get married one day, sure, but not until I'm a successful actress.  Are you seeing the pattern here?  Fulfilling my dream has always been my first priority, above all else, and deep down inside of me, I'm terrified that if my dream never comes true, that not only will I not have that, but I also won't have anyone to go through life with, because I chose success instead.  There's always what ifs.  What if you choose love and you never get to know how far you could have gone, and what if you choose success and spend the rest of time lonely and unfulfilled.  

All of this is to say that the career path I, and so many people whom I love, chose to pursue, leads to the most devastating, torturous, vulnerable, rocky, unstable life.  But it is also the most gratifying, fulfilling, worthwhile, passionate, and exciting life.  For every thought of giving up, is a thought of how impossible that would actually be.  For every single, however fleeting, thought of failure, there is the drive, the love, and the hope that keeps you from going home.  Every day I wish I loved another industry, but then I wake up, remember my calling, and couldn't possibly have it any other way.

To the little girl I once was who would watch Bye Bye Birdie 18 times a day and who'd choreograph and block entire shows in her room by herself, and who knew the lyrics to Miss Saigon before any songs from Barney, I will make damn sure your dream does not stay a dream.  Also how could you say no to this face?  Brb using it as my current headshot from now on.

And to my Mom and Dad, I will not rest on this dream.  I will not make any more excuses.  I will charge forth into those casting rooms and I will make something of myself.  Because I have to.  Because it's what I'm here for.  And because it's what I owe to you.

Go see La La Land, for real.