Before we got together, there were the elementary school flirtations. Those were exciting (my one line in the 2nd grade Christmas play, "But the cookies taste like cardboard!!" was a total hit with my family and would be rightly hailed for years to come), but I didn't take him seriously until high school. I had many suitors as a wee lass, mind you. Literature. Super-spydom. Pet Shop Ownership.
In 10th grade, we started going steady. Oh MAN, was I starry-eyed. But unlike with boyfriends, I didn't think about us being together forever. I don't remember having that thought until I started applying to colleges 2 years later. Then I had a very clear moment of literally stopping in my tracks one afternoon as I walked through my house, and thinking "I am going to be an actor. As a profession." And then I smiled hugely. :) It didn't feel like a decision. It felt like *knowing.* Like when I looked across the street at Matt 8 years and a few states later and just knew I was looking at my partner.
So, after high school puppy-love there was a long courtship--I didn't want to directly study theatre in college, but I built a curriculum for myself that constantly referred back to it, so my still-mysterious love (my thesis? "The Liminal State of the Actor") was very much in my thoughts.
I suppose we got engaged when he gave me my Equity card:). (Health insurance is totally romantic.) That was 2005. Things were quiet for about 6 months and then BAM! I got all kinds of great acting work for the next year and a half. But then there was a minor financial fall-out, and we had to part for a while...
The point of all this is: it is only NOW that I feel "married" to Theatre. We are having a rough time, but I have no intention of leaving. There is something empowering about that. Back in high school I had a sudden knowing. For the last few months, I have NOT known. I have not felt certain that I would be able to professionally act for years to come. What I *have* felt is a choice. I choose the auditioning, I choose the hoping. I choose the thrill of performing, I choose the importance of storytelling. I choose the art, I choose the fun, I choose the disappointment, I choose the instability. What that says about me could be any number of things. What I celebrate today for myself is a moment of clarity. If I choose this, then it is my responsibility to love through thick & thin, rich & poor. I am responsible for my own happiness within this relationship, and also for aiding my partner's well-being.
Look, after all, at the things we have given each other already! Look here, and here! And here:
We're gonna be o.k. I think I just accidentally hit upon the key to a consistently strong relationship...a sense of humor:).
Yes, yes, your other husband gave you children first...
ReplyDeleteLovely post. I'll hit 20 years (whether I admitted it or not, this is what I've done with any modicum of true effort since I was 11 years old) this fall and I've been feeling so much of the same - as you know.
A mutual friend once compared a life in theatre to an abusive relationship - "When she's good to me, she's sooooo good I can forget that she beats the shit out of me the rest of the time." I like your metaphor better.
Love this Tia, smart and clever ;)
ReplyDeleteLike with any marriage those brief lows should make you appreciate the longer highs, eh? Enjoyed the post...perhaps you should write more about this...future play? Book? If nothing else, fun for the reader!