I recently auditioned for the inaugural cast of Listen to Your Mother – OKC. I wasn’t nervous. I’ve been in theatre since I was a very young girl. I think I was four the first time I was on stage. Well, on a real stage. My parents bought me a toy microphone with stand when I was two and I oftened played ROCK STAR, a game in which I mimicked my favorite MTV videos.
On top of that, I’m very much so a believer in putting our experiences out there in order to recreate the communal bond that we just don’t have in modern society. And then on top of that, I knew two of the three women who would be in the audition room. AND THEN ON TOP OF THAT I really like the sound of my own voice. So, I wasn’t nervous.
And then I made the dang show.
Despite the lovely sound of my beautiful voice, I didn’t quite think I would make it. I’m a new mother and the story I will be telling – that of my mother’s overdose – isn’t exactly a trip to Upliftingville. What I have to share about where that’s lead me is simple and relatively unprofound, at least in my eyes. But I wanted to tell her story. I wanted to tell my story of my time with her. I wanted to tell the start of my sons story. And really, that was going to be enough.
But these crazy, beautiful souls I shared my story with want me to tell it again. They want me to share it face to face with hundreds of strangers (and hopefully dozens of my own supporters sprinkled throughout). They want me to share it with the videographer and YouTube and a stranger, somewhere, who needs to know that they’re not alone.
So I’m going to do this. I’m going to up the bar on my oversharing. I’m going to expose this very tender part of my existance that most of my closest friends have never been fully privy to.
And for the first time in nearly 26 years, I’m really nervous.