How do you leave the past behind....when you see it three times a week?

In which we learn why Tanya's best friends are theatre people (including the ex?)...

When I was a child, I always saw myself as an adult. I had a whole lot of personality and I showed it off. I was a ham and I knew I was the most awesome person that had ever graced this earth. I never hesitated doing anything or talking to anyone, because it never crossed my mind that it was something I shouldn't be doing. I'm sure this attitude came from being the first grandchild and niece on both sides of my family. I was special and everyone told me so.

It wasn't until I got to the awkward teenage years that my outlook in life shifted. Let's blame junior high, because I don't know anyone who had an easy time there. It's an odd time for anyone, because in that "society," those who are outspoken or different are usually shunned and misunderstood. Most kids try their hardest to fit in rather than stand out. Plus being in the midst of puberty makes you feel even the littlest things a hundred times more than you normally would.

So being thrown into a daunting situation where every judges everything about you was extremely jarring for me. I was so painfully self conscious (mostly because I was pimply and my hair was frizzy and I had started to gain weight, isn't growing up magical?), and no one reminded me I was special. I became introverted and shy, because when I would say or do something I wouldn't have hesitated to do before, I was met with derision and disapproval. That led to so much self-doubt, loneliness, and fear. I desperately wanted to be seen and liked. It isn't until you gain perspective with age that you realize that most of those kids wanted the same things. Even the ones who looked the most together.

I started being awfully self-deprecating and depressed. I lost my own personality and related to people by telling them what they wanted to hear. I was so starved for friendly interaction and I wanted to be seen. This is how I became a people-pleaser. About the middle of ninth grade, I found theatre and it literally saved my life. I don't know what would have became of me had I not been prodded to audition for the musical. I was at such a desperate state.

Getting in to high school, things started to get easier. I would come alive onstage and found "my people." Slowly, I gained my own footing. People saw me and started to pay attention. But I never lost that fear of disapproval by my peers. I still "acted" in my everyday life and told people what I thought they wanted to hear. One quote sums up those years for me:

"On the stage (s)he was natural, simple, affecting. Twas only when (s)he was off, (s)he was acting."

-Oliver Goldsmith

Not to say that I didn't make true, lifelong friends during that time. They recognized what I was going through and they pushed me to be braver and realize my vast potential. Not just in theatre, but in my everyday life too. They included me in their lives and became part of mine. I stood out above the crowd, hand-in-hand with people I loved. That very first theatre family still influences my acting and life today.

Same thing happened in college. I made extraordinary friends, including my now best friend, Taylor. After we had been in a couple theatre classes together and began talking, he recognized in me something lovely, and helped me develop it. I also fell in love for the first time doing theatre class in college, and that young man helped me find myself even more. He saw me as more than I ever thought I could be, and I am so grateful to him for getting me to that next step.

Theatre people are exceptional people.

So when I met my now ex-fiance, I was so much more confident in who I was. I could hold up my head and shine. I met him when Taylor and I did our first play together outside college. And for the first time, someone truly saw me for who I was without me having to say anything. I didn't have to try to impress for the first time in my life. He was impressed by simply my friendly eyes and smile. He had never even heard me speak, and he couldn't stop smiling and sneaking glances at me. Our first kiss was backstage, with such fireworks. And life was beautiful.

We were together for two and a half years, and I grew up immensely. I don't even recognize who I was before that time. I grew into my own person. Though many people contributed to who I am today, no one has been more influential (for good and bad) in the person I am right now than him.

So now, I am living my life without him. His choice, not mine. Twice. But I'm still doing theatre, and trusting it to help me find myself again. I fell in love with theatre before I met my ex, and nothing has changed. Nothing can keep me from that, so it's something solid to hold on to. I may have lost my hold and faith in other things, but never that. So he and I reconciled mostly based on our mutual love for this very personal art form. Despite everything, we still play very well off each other.

But it will never be easy to watch him flirt with other women. Watch others adore him and see the man I've always seen, even in his darkest times. I've started to go inward again. I smile and laugh because that's what people expect of me. Then I go downstairs and scream in frustration, come back up and act with the man I used to love. It is honestly one of the hardest things I've ever done.

One of the most annoying things about this whole situation is that he can see this. He can see that I'm struggling to smile and enjoy myself while doing my passion in life. That my smile doesn't reach my eyes. So he'll tell me an inside joke or start to sing something we used to sing together, and heaven help me, I smile. I smile so big. I start glowing. In that moment, I'm reminded that I'm a beautiful, special person and someone else knows that intimately. That I'm not isolated from the rest of the world. He still sees me without me trying to impress him.

Maybe there will be a day when I won't need him to remind me of that. When I won't feel the need to initiate contact with him. He's not even that good of a friend to me outside when we're acting together. We never hang out or catch up besides the five minute breaks we get (unfortunately, not for lack of me trying). That isn't enough for me right now, but it's my reality. My pride is gone from forgiving and giving him so many chances to be in my life. Again, I'm falling back in to people-pleasing because it's comfortable.

I'm freaking twenty-six years old. If I don't start standing on my own again, it's always going to be this way.

Sigh. I really didn't start this blog to moan about my ex like so much of the Internet, but I made a commitment to write without fear and with complete honesty. The truth? You shouldn't be in a situation where you have to hang out with your ex three times a week. No matter how adult about it you are, it will still screw with your head and heart.

Theatre love you long time!