The Wrong Side of 25; The Right Side of Everything Else

I know this is going to come as a surprise to many people, but I have a confession to make: I am in my late twenties. I know, I can hear you gasping. I kid you not -- I may have the body of a teenager, the chronic acne of a child going through puberty, and (sometimes) the emotional maturity of a 12 year old, but, yes, I am on the wrong side of 25. I thank my Chinese mother's contribution to my genetic make up that I am often still mistaken for a person in her early 20s, on the exciting cusp of adulthood. Well, let me tell you, I crossed that cusp awhile back and am now well on the other side of it. So, how does it all look from way over here on the wrong side of 25? I'm gonna tell you.

When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a ballerina. I made it into the School of American Ballet in NYC and attended for a year before my mom decided that going into the city from Westchester for class 4 times a week was just too much commitment for a 10 year old. At 13 I changed my mind after so much time and money spent in ballet class and decided I wanted to be a musical theatre performer. By 21 I was touring England on my first professional contract performing 12 (yes,12!!!!) shows a week, all the while dreaming of making it onto the West End. This came into fruition and I got the chance to be a part of 3 West End shows by the time I was 26. When this happened, I decided that the next natural progression would be to focus my efforts on Broadway, a dream so big, that I hadn't even dared to suggest to myself that I might be able to make it a reality until I woke up one day and realised that all the dreams I'd had had already come true. So, I packed my bags and came to NYC with new hopes and new dreams. A typical tale. All the way over here on the wrong side of 25, I look back on my 21 year old self and see that, though my goals are different and much, much bigger, my own way of pursuing them have remained the same.

I have learned that the path to Broadway is harder than anyone or any other experience could have prepared me for. This is not a peaceful meandering path next to a babbling brook, nay, this is a full on sweat-your-boobs-off hike. You know what it feels like to love to dance as much as I do and not have the chance to work as a dancer? It feels like I am living with a third of my soul and a limb missing. I am pretty certain that anyone else in my position will tell you the same thing. I am a cockeyed optimist, so whatever the Universe throws at me, I try to take in my stride and use to learn, help, and give. There are always lessons to learn, people to help, and good things to give. All good things! But even a cockeyed optimist feels blue once in awhile. Spending every spare day off of my day job either auditioning or in a dance class can sometimes feel like I'm hitting my head against a brick wall, but it's my heart that ends up hurting. It hurts to put so much of your time, energy, and heart into something and get nothing back. This is the reality of every unemployed artist, but that does not mean I feel the hurt any less. Even though there are so many of us in the same situation, it feels like just me against the world. There are times I get scared that I am letting the pressures of NYC take away my core values and turn me into someone I don't want to be.

I am what I am, take me or leave me. Even at 13, when I made the decision not to pursue a ballet career, I was following my gut and intuition. In other words, I was following my passion, though I doubt that my 13 year old self would have articulated it as so. This is what I am: I am a loving and loyal friend until I am wronged or taken advantage of, and then my claws come out. That trait is never changing; I'm either warm and fuzzy like a childhood teddy bear or cold and prickly like a frost-bitten cactus, and unfortunately people tend to see one side or the other, depending on where my loyalties lie. I am a daughter and sister whose family is my number one priority. Again, that one's easy; I love my family more than anything in the world, and that will always remain constant. I am the person you can count on who will stay true to my word. Now, THIS is where I run into difficulties. If I am contacted via phone or email, I will reply within the day, and if I can't reply properly, I will follow-up saying that a proper reply is on my to-do list and I will get round to it as soon as possible. For me, that means a week, at the longest. If I tell someone I want to see them, I mean it. Otherwise, I don't say it. If I say I will meet you at 4pm, I will be at the appointed location at 3:55pm. Here's the thing: I don't know any other way to be. I really really don't. So, I get confused when I contact someone and they never respond. I get annoyed when someone tells me that they want to see me so I am careful not to overbook myself, then that person flakes and cancels on me. I get REALLY annoyed when I am supposed to meet someone at 4pm and they show up at 4:15pm.

My mom keeps telling me that I'm naive. "why do you keep replying to people's emails if you know that they are not going to follow-up?" she'll ask me. Why??? Because, in my mind, that is the right thing to do. It is both good human etiquette and good social etiquette to respond to someone when they contact you needing a favour. How am I supposed to know that, if I go out of my way to try and help, they will tell me at the last minute that they don't need my help anymore? But, that's besides he point. I do all these things because I will not lower my standards, even if I am dealing with people who have different standards. However, in NYC, everyone is obsessed with themselves (I am not exempt from this, obviously...I am blogging about it!) that I have found myself not following through on things because there have been so many circumstances when people have not followed through with me. So, suddenly, my need to reply to calls and emails and take social plans seriously really doesn't seem all that important anymore. But I hate that. I hate that I've ended up sometimes being the sort of flaky acquaintance I get confused by. I feel more and more that everyone is out for themselves, and it doesn't matter how they treat others. It matters to me, though. It really really matters to me. I want to treat others with the sort of respect I'd like to receive. As much as I want to be on Broadway, there is something that I want more: to stay true to my core values and not let myself change for the sake of my dreams. Because, if you change for the worse to get what you want, doesn't that somehow taint the glory of it?

I follow my passion and pursue everything that I want 200%, but I will pursue on my terms. I will not sacrifice my sense of what is right for any dream. I am what I am, and I have faith that there will be a place for me on Broadway one day, just the way that I am. So, how does it look from all the way over here on the wrong side of 25? It looks like I'm doomed to send emails that will remain unreplied, make plans that will not materialise, and be offered promises that will not be kept. But, I happily accept. I happily let myself and my quirky ways be made a mockery of if, at the end of it all, I can look back when I'm on the wrong side of 55 and feel as proud of my late-twenties self as I do of my teenage self. Hard work, dedication, strong values, and luck. That's all it took for one 13 year old Chinese-Jew to give up a career in ballet to eventually perform on the West End. It's a long long trek till I'm on the wrong side of 55, so I better get my backpack, water bottle, and teeny bike shorts. I'm ready for the hike!

copyright (c) 2010-2011 Celia Mei Rubin