Today marked the end of the first week of my USA tour. The past few days have been a constant reminder of where I came from and how different my life is compared to my high school dreams.
Setting down in NYC allowed me time to recall the magnitude of American cities. New York is on a completely different energy level to London. It is hard to explain to anyone who has never lived in London, especially those from the US, but whilst it is one of the largest and most populated cities in the world, I will always love it for it's small city feel. Perhaps it's the lack of touring skyscrapers, or overly wide streets and sidewalks. Or maybe the old world charm of the city lends a provincial feeling, the buildings are not as harsh and unforgiving as in New York, and possibly it's the abundance of parks, green spaces, and quiet suburban areas that gives London an all together different type of 'city-living' experience. I was surprised to find myself homesick for London only a couple days into my stay in the Big Apple. And I was shocked by the simple, strange observations I have gained thusfar on American living.
It's amazing the little things you forget when you emigrate. Insignificant, minor things that make you feel like a foreigner in your own country. Like when I go to turn on a light...I automatically reach to press a dimmer switch in or turn it like a dial to adjust the lighting level, only to be met with a simple light switch that flicks on by lifting the little switch up. This may be too much information, but even the means by which you flush a toilet is different. I keep going to press the button on top (like in the UK) and then having to search for the handle on the side. Bath tubs are insanely shallow. It's no wonder I didn't discover the joys of a bath until I moved across the pond. Tax added at the end of a sale always throws me. Why can't you include the tax in the price like in the UK?! And driving on the right side of the road is entirely disorientating. These minor things would seem like normal observations when travelling anywhere else in the world, but for me, as an American who spent most of her life in the US, it feels oddly unsettling. How could I forget these minute things?
But if NYC made me feel like a foreigner, a visit to my parent's place, and the task of sorting through all my college, high school, and childhood things was an all together different kind of awakening. Flipping through my old journals, I was reminded of the independent, MASSIVELY driven, dreamer I used to be. I was going to live a life in the theatre; money was not important. I didn't care if I never became a success. All I wanted was to 'see the world' and 'live life to the fullest'. But then again, aren't we all a bit like that in college? It's easy to think that money isn't important when your bills are minimal and student loans are your source of 'income'. Then graduation comes, and the bills start rolling in. Your friends with 'real jobs' are going out to eat, to concerts, and on holidays and inviting you along and suddenly, money is really a necessity.
I didn't make the transition any easier on myself by choosing to start an acting career in another country, where my 'type' and my accent is just not needed in abundance. So I started to wonder if I'd never moved abroad how different would my career be? Would I still be the overly ambitious single girl of my youth? Would I be a jobbing actress in Chicago or NYC? Back then I felt stronger, more independent, and sure of what I wanted. But of course, grief changed me and grief is the price you pay for love.
And finally it hit me....so maybe I didn't follow through with my career ambitions. In the early days, I confided in a friend that I felt I too had died with P. His response was simple: 'Many people live multiple lives in one lifetime.' But while I am prone to feel that I have already lived my share of lives, started over again and again, I want to think of these as chapters instead. Just because I have moved on to a new chapter, without P, does not mean I cannot flip back to the pages of our relationship and find strength in the love we shared. And perhaps in time, I will find myself revisiting the pages of my college days, rediscovering my old independence and ambition once again.
Looking back can also offer perspective. I am prone to jealousy. I'm not proud of it, but it's true. Watching my cousin's success over the years has been hard at times. As she headlined a musical that toured the country, I was still performing in unpaid plays with runs that lasted a meagre two nights. But she has worked hard for her success, and I know those friends of mine who are forging incredible careers for themselves are forced to make tough sacrifices. In the end, I chose to spend time with P over auditions and I chose to travel. In the past 7 years I have seen and done more than I ever dreamed possible. So why am I moaning that my career is not where I expected it to be? It was a choice I made. And a choice I don't regret for one second. After all, 20 year old me wanted to 'live life to the fullest'. I'm pretty sure she'd be proud of 28 year old me.
Setting down in NYC allowed me time to recall the magnitude of American cities. New York is on a completely different energy level to London. It is hard to explain to anyone who has never lived in London, especially those from the US, but whilst it is one of the largest and most populated cities in the world, I will always love it for it's small city feel. Perhaps it's the lack of touring skyscrapers, or overly wide streets and sidewalks. Or maybe the old world charm of the city lends a provincial feeling, the buildings are not as harsh and unforgiving as in New York, and possibly it's the abundance of parks, green spaces, and quiet suburban areas that gives London an all together different type of 'city-living' experience. I was surprised to find myself homesick for London only a couple days into my stay in the Big Apple. And I was shocked by the simple, strange observations I have gained thusfar on American living.
It's amazing the little things you forget when you emigrate. Insignificant, minor things that make you feel like a foreigner in your own country. Like when I go to turn on a light...I automatically reach to press a dimmer switch in or turn it like a dial to adjust the lighting level, only to be met with a simple light switch that flicks on by lifting the little switch up. This may be too much information, but even the means by which you flush a toilet is different. I keep going to press the button on top (like in the UK) and then having to search for the handle on the side. Bath tubs are insanely shallow. It's no wonder I didn't discover the joys of a bath until I moved across the pond. Tax added at the end of a sale always throws me. Why can't you include the tax in the price like in the UK?! And driving on the right side of the road is entirely disorientating. These minor things would seem like normal observations when travelling anywhere else in the world, but for me, as an American who spent most of her life in the US, it feels oddly unsettling. How could I forget these minute things?
But if NYC made me feel like a foreigner, a visit to my parent's place, and the task of sorting through all my college, high school, and childhood things was an all together different kind of awakening. Flipping through my old journals, I was reminded of the independent, MASSIVELY driven, dreamer I used to be. I was going to live a life in the theatre; money was not important. I didn't care if I never became a success. All I wanted was to 'see the world' and 'live life to the fullest'. But then again, aren't we all a bit like that in college? It's easy to think that money isn't important when your bills are minimal and student loans are your source of 'income'. Then graduation comes, and the bills start rolling in. Your friends with 'real jobs' are going out to eat, to concerts, and on holidays and inviting you along and suddenly, money is really a necessity.
I didn't make the transition any easier on myself by choosing to start an acting career in another country, where my 'type' and my accent is just not needed in abundance. So I started to wonder if I'd never moved abroad how different would my career be? Would I still be the overly ambitious single girl of my youth? Would I be a jobbing actress in Chicago or NYC? Back then I felt stronger, more independent, and sure of what I wanted. But of course, grief changed me and grief is the price you pay for love.
And finally it hit me....so maybe I didn't follow through with my career ambitions. In the early days, I confided in a friend that I felt I too had died with P. His response was simple: 'Many people live multiple lives in one lifetime.' But while I am prone to feel that I have already lived my share of lives, started over again and again, I want to think of these as chapters instead. Just because I have moved on to a new chapter, without P, does not mean I cannot flip back to the pages of our relationship and find strength in the love we shared. And perhaps in time, I will find myself revisiting the pages of my college days, rediscovering my old independence and ambition once again.
Looking back can also offer perspective. I am prone to jealousy. I'm not proud of it, but it's true. Watching my cousin's success over the years has been hard at times. As she headlined a musical that toured the country, I was still performing in unpaid plays with runs that lasted a meagre two nights. But she has worked hard for her success, and I know those friends of mine who are forging incredible careers for themselves are forced to make tough sacrifices. In the end, I chose to spend time with P over auditions and I chose to travel. In the past 7 years I have seen and done more than I ever dreamed possible. So why am I moaning that my career is not where I expected it to be? It was a choice I made. And a choice I don't regret for one second. After all, 20 year old me wanted to 'live life to the fullest'. I'm pretty sure she'd be proud of 28 year old me.
