Growing up and changing your mind

(and why that's okay)

Photo by Edward Howell on Unsplash

Throughout my entire life, I have always known I've wanted to end up working in the arts. As a child, I wanted to be a popstar, a painter, a photographer, a fashion designer, a ballerina. My imagination knew no bounds at this age. My head was always in a book, likely a fantasy novel about fairies who live in the garden. My paints and colouring pencils were often being used to make pieces of colourful art. The stereo in my room was constantly playing an eclectic mix of 90s and 00s pop, to which I would frequently sing along. I was part of my primary school choir for a while. I would act out small scenarios or create dance routines with my friends. At one point, I was learning 3 different dance styles through the dance lessons I was taking 3 times a week. When I was a teenager, I was still knee deep in artistic pursuits. All 4 of my chosen GCSEs were arts-based – Fine Art, Textiles, Music, and Drama. Once again, I joined the choir at my secondary school. I was taking guitar, drama, and singing lessons outside of school. I was teaching myself ukulele and piano. I quickly fell in love with acting and performance making. I was convinced that I'd be going to Drama school at 18 years old and that I would live a happy life as a successful working actor.

Life didn't quite turn out the way I'd hoped. The teachers at my sixth form urged me to go to university instead of a Drama school, they said it would 'look better' on my CV. "Fine", I thought to myself. I likely sulked for a while too! At the time it seemed wildly unfair, but I knew in my heart, somewhere buried deep down, that university could possibly offer a stability that Drama school couldn't. My compromise was that I would, indeed, go to uni. But instead of taking a 'serious' subject, I chose Drama Studies.

In hindsight, this choice wasn't exactly what I wanted. At my chosen university, it was more academically minded than the intense actor training I was hoping I would get. However, I don't regret it one bit. Those 3 years pushed my creativity in so many directions, and I am a better artist because of it. I have only my fantastic lecturers to thank for allowing me to look at performance in so many different ways. At this time, my foot was still very much on the artistic pedal. I was taking singing lessons again. I was part of an amateur musical production and auditioning for others. I wrote the beginnings of a novel. I wrote tons of poetry and prose. I obsessively made origami and scrapbooked all of the treasures I'd collected over the years. However, the idea of Drama school was very much in the back of my head still.

You see, I wanted very much to be on stage at that time. Since being a child, I loved it. I adored being able to step outside of myself for a while and be someone else. I loved the adrenaline rush of being on stage, as performing live adds a certain level of electricity to the performance. I knew that uni students from previous years had gone on to study at Drama schools, and I was aware that some of my peers were hoping to make that leap too. But, I was ignoring the fact that I also hated being on stage. The idea I had built up in my head of what it was like to be an actor was, in my experience, far from the truth of it all. At the time, I was wearing rose-tinted glasses as I was afraid of the truth. The truth was simply this: for me, acting was so nauseatingly exposing that the anxiety and distress it was causing me simply wasn't worth the applause at the end.

Leading up to a performance, I would panic so much. Not only that, but my mental health would be noticeably affected for weeks and months after a performance. I thought that 3 years of uni would help me shake it off, but if anything it got worse. To be clear, this isn't this entirely the fault of performing itself. I had already experienced significant anxiety in my life and performing on stage only exacerbated it.

By the time I came round to deciding what I wanted to do after my degree, I took the safe route and opted for a performance-based, but still rather academic, Masters degree. I didn't do much performing during this time as the COVID-19 pandemic happened half way through my year as a Masters student. It certainly took the pressure off, but that time away to consider my options made me confront what I'd been running away from for years. I realised that I am simply not cut out for it. The years upon years of lessons, half-finished arts projects, panic-driven stage performances, and making art to try and get a good grade finally caught up to me. In trying to 'do it all', I found that I'd actually not honed any one particular skill, but rather picked things up halfheartedly in an attempt to try everything and not place limits on myself. Of course, there's nothing wrong with giving things a go. But it led me to burn out in every way possible – mentally, physically, spiritually, artistically, and emotionally.

I made peace with the idea that I will not be the stage actor extraordinaire that I'd been dreaming about for years. I've always prided myself on following my heart when it comes to my artistic passions, and for not letting cynical outside influences try to direct me elsewhere. However, at this stage in my life I am elated that Drama school remains to be the road not taken.

I realise now that I'm not the right person for it, and I don't think I ever was. Despite the fact that I haven't performed in years, I am not giving in to my fears of being on stage. I have simply discovered that my particular mind and body doesn't mix well with the pressures of being a performer. What I am excited about, though, is I've realised that I can still work in the arts industry in one capacity or another. This way of life that I have always loved can be my place of work, even if I'm not belting out a musical number on stage or pouring my heart out in a depressing Sarah Kane monologue. In my life, whenever I chose the artistic path, I felt like I was making my younger self proud. To me, it would've been a disservice to pick anything else. I still feel this way now. It would be a shame to give it all up after it has been my lifelong passion, and somewhere I've almost always felt at home. This time, though, my goals are more realistic for me.

Nowadays, my life dreams feel somewhat more within my reach. A few years ago, I started a PhD which is focused on theatre. I still remain in this wonderful artistic realm, but academically! I have every intention of seeing my thesis through to completion in the next couple of years. After that, I'd love to be working in a creative career that I've designed for myself. One day, I want to own a home with my partner. I'd love a cat (or two!). I want to do artistic projects just for my own consumption. I want my life to feel nourished and full of joy that modern, hectic society tries to swipe away from us.

In my pursuit of a slow and simple life, I've come to understand that it requires a great deal of honesty towards yourself. This isn't me giving up and putting my dreams away in a drawer, it's simply growing up and realising what doesn't work. I’m changing my mind and finding new dreams instead. Letting go of this idealised future has allowed me to take a step back and finally come to actually enjoy being artistic again. There's no pressure for it to become something bigger than it is. It's also allowing me to come back to myself. I think I lost her for a little while.

What I've learnt from this experience is that sometimes things don't work out the way we want them to, and that's okay. Sometimes, life offers us new paths and opportunities that we might not have even considered. Best case scenario, it can actually be better than what we originally were dreaming about! I've been made to feel by others that my longing for an artistic career is frivolous and something that isn't worth my time. But we must remind ourselves that if we are lucky enough to choose to live our lives in the way that we see fit, we should take that opportunity. Even if that means doing something that seems unconventional.

I am proud of myself for following this path for so long, anything else would've felt like a cop out or not true to the person I am. But now, I make this path work for me. Without all of those pressures from years ago, what a beautiful path it is.