I, along with most, was told to dream big. “The world is your imagination.” While that fact rings true for some who dream of being a mom, becoming a doctor/nurse, or other high-demand jobs, for me, my dream has always been seen as unrealistic. Becoming a professional actor is nearly impossible. When researching about acting, I found that only around 2% of actors actually make it. 2%. To say the odds are against me is an extreme understatement.

I remember being a young child when realizing the people behind the screen were actual people and not just characters. I remember learning about acting and instantly becoming so intrigued to learn more.

The first ever live show I saw was Newsies. My great-grandma had bought tickets for me and all my family to go see it. I had never quite experienced something so emotionally connecting. I could leave the world I was in and be brought into this story, fully immersed, feeling their emotions, their pain, seeing their characters changing throughout the show. After leaving, there was melancholy that remained. Feeling so full, alive, for it to all slowly fade as the magic chips away during the ride home.

The first show I was in was Honk! Jr. and I played the character Penny. This was the moment I truly fell in love with performing. All aspects of live theatre have my heart, from the audition process all the way to the final bows; rehearsing, learning, memorizing, all of it. I felt so at home in every aspect, like I finally found the place I thrive and I’m exceptional at. Not just good, not just okay, stellar. All I could picture myself doing in the future was exactly that. Performing.

After every performance—choir, theatre, etc..—My grandpa would always approach me, stating, “you just light up on stage.” I could not agree more. I gain a spark every time I step foot in front of an audience. Between my grandpa, other relatives, and friends, it’s safe to say that I become more whole while performing.

It wasn’t until my junior year of high school that I even fully believed becoming an actor was possible. I was in the fall play that year, and we were doing three different one-acts. During the audition process, I fell in love with the character Jane in the play The Yellow Wallpaper. She was a new mom with postpartum depression in a time when that wasn’t researched or understood, and throughout the play we see her slowly “losing her mind.” The moment I opened the cast list on my phone I saw I was cast as Jane. Something changed. It was the first time in my life that I felt good enough for something, like I could make it. I finally had a chance to show my determination and dedication to theatre. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I fulfilled this role exceptionally. I spent hours memorizing over 100 lines, learning how to cry on command, curating my character, and I never felt more excited or happy in my life. It was my chance to show that I can do it, and I did.

Now, I’m in my senior year, and everyone around me is expecting me to have my plan down, but I don’t. My doubts about following this dream have reemerged. I’ve settled for cosmetology school, as hair and makeup are how I express myself. I didn’t want to go to school for acting, and while naive, I don’t see the point. Spending years of my life and gaining a gross amount of debt wasn’t appealing to me.

But how can I just let go of acting? The thing my heart beats for. My one true love I’ve found in my life. I feel in my bones that acting is what I’m meant to do, though that is easier said than done. Acting is considered unrealistic, almost impossible to make a career out of. But my heart yearns for her.