Me: In 60 Seconds Or Less

Let’s give the short story of my life until this point: Youngest of three kids, had a single mom, a worthless father who hasn’t been a part of my life since I was three and was rightfully forced out of the picture and into prison after causing major devastation. Mom worked insanely hard, and my dear Grandma lived with us and helped raise us. Moved around quite a bit. Were very poor as a family and clawed our way in to the middle class. Learned from my Mom to be fiercely independent. Always a teacher’s pet and a hopeless romantic. First love was in high school, ended cause he cheated on me. Moved from a small town in CA to the Big Apple on my own when I was 18. Second love was in college, ended cause he cheated on me. Worked many day jobs while pursuing an acting career. True love is a real catch, and I’m holding on to him with both hands. He’s a man I’d say yes to. * blush *

So there it is. On paper it seems typical, a life full of challenges, a life full of love. Probably sounds like a lot of stories out there. I’ve rattled it off a million times to a million people and always get the same response. Something to the effect of ‘You’ve been through a lot, I’d never know it unless you told me because you are so happy!’

Then, yesterday, I got a different response. Someone I barely know said, ‘Wow, with constant change around you your whole life, you must feel a deep need to be in control.’ Stopped me in my tracks, the happiness I wear on my face slowly faded. I looked at the lady like she had three heads (and violating x-ray vision). Her ten second evaluation embarrassed me. Had I stumbled into a therapist without knowing it? It became clear why they have couches in their offices! I admit, the rest is a bit of a blur. I think I nervously rattled off some hackneyed cliché that surely didn’t impart anything meaningful and escaped the conversation as quickly as I could. I hurried towards my home feeling stripped. When I got there, and the rest of the world was locked outside my front door, I felt so angry at the woman. How dare she go off script! How could a relative stranger have the nerve to accuse me of being controlling! I had been perfectly pleasant! If she only knew! If I needed to be in control, I wouldn’t be so out of control so regularly!

Oh… wait…

I have heard that compulsion is despair on the emotional level.

My head was starting to connect the dots… control issues… image maintenance… hiding evidence… restriction… reward… binge… guilt… losing control… leading to despair… leading to compulsion…

This gave me a lot to think about. I can’t really remember a time that I felt completely hopeless, regardless of circumstances. More often than not, in dire situations, hope is the only thing that gets me through. I’ve been known to be the girl who takes the ‘I can find a way to fix it’ attitude. Described as a personal cheerleader for my friends, I’ve worked hard to always keep the hope alive. I can’t say despair is something that feels familiar to me- except when it comes to my body.

When a ‘deep need to be in control’ was suggested, I immediately assumed she meant control of others. Maybe she didn't. I’ve learned the hard, painful way that you can’t control others. You can’t make them stay, or leave, or be good, or hurt you. They do all of that on their own, regardless of you. It’s a terrifying truth, and a liberating one. The only thing I can control, is myself… well, most of the time.

People will draw whatever conclusions they choose from my one-minute bio. I can’t change the past, or what they think, and I don’t know that I would want to. Every second I see coming at me in my future is just as soon in my past. So, here is the future I hope to add on to the end of my story:

Happily married, mother of four children, and two dogs. Successful actress. Loving home. Remains close with friends and family. And if not, that’s okay too.