I’m a performer. I love acting, dancing, and being at the centre of the stage. But it wasn’t
inborn, performing didn’t come to me as naturally as I had people believe.
It began with a strong distaste for socialising, I’d find every excuse to avoid participating in life. Soon, high school came along, and suddenly class performances were a thing. The entire class would get up on stage and perform in front of the school. I dreaded the exposure, my thirteen-year-old acne-prone face and cracking voice would be out for all to witness. Yet surprisingly, I couldn’t bring myself to dislike the experience. I actually enjoyed myself. One day, a friend requested I try out for the musical team with her, and out of pure luck, I got cast as a tree.
Most people would despise that role, having to be a nobody, a backdrop without an animate
existence. But I accepted it because it was exactly how I viewed myself. When I wasn’t busy being a tree or a houseplant, I partook in speech competitions to up my merits. If I couldn’t get the grades at school, the least I could do was enhance my all-roundedness. From class performances and speech competitions to school debates, I did them all. Soon enough, I began hearing myself. It was soft at first, a mere whisper. Then it transcended to an utterance. A voice I could hear. A voice that wanted to be heard. A voice that was mine. I no longer wanted to be some tree, no matter how beautifully green or tall it was. From then on, I took up dancing, tried out for roles I never expected to play, and really put myself out there. I was no longer a wallflower; I could be whoever I wanted to be. So I became the protagonist, the antagonist, the love interest, the bully; all sprouting from a small group performance with my friends.
See, it became my cocoon, the musical team, a family without anyone superior or inferior to
the other. Even the ‘tree’ was just as crucial to the story as the hero. However, as much as
working with people I knew and loved gave me a strong sense of self, it also unwittingly
made me apprehensive about change. I was attached. Attached to the safety and
reassurance I got from being in the team. And it was holding me down. Could I do as well in
an entirely different environment? With faces, I didn’t recognise and voices and I had never
heard? Would I be able to survive outside the safe haven of this “family“ I had found? Owing
to such insecurities, I forwent countless opportunities that came knocking on my door. I
declined offers to perform on a bigger, better stage. I shied away from chances to improve
myself and my skills. Do I regret it? Extremely, undeniably. In fear of ‘looking less’, I had
allowed myself to be less. The voice I had found got buried under self-doubt.
But one can only live in a cocoon for so long. It was time I focused on my growth, and that is
why I'm changing. Evolving, dare I say. Slowly but surely. Learning to take it at a stride,
learning to grasp moments that mean the most to me, and learning to keep my voice afloat.
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