“Perhaps no matter how bad it gets, we’re beholden not to look away from the things we fear or revere. The more we examine the grooves and scars of life, the deeper we go in our forensic investigations by trying to name the things that appear before us, the more free and complete we become, the more capable of identification and compassion and opposition.”
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- Michael Paterniti, Love and Other Ways of Dying
Four months in Singapore rocked my world, and I haven’t quite gotten it back in place ever since. The lasting effect of dwindled confidence and perceived incompetence carried through to my summer in L.A. and also my final school year back in Ann Arbor. Grappling with the distance from who I once was, I needed to find the steps and missteps that got me here.
Opening up the scars of last year, I’ve found solace in my struggle. I see what I did and what I shouldn’t have done, when I was thrived and when I was struggled, and what was in my control and what was a product of the universe. While I can’t actually go back and correct the actions I’ve taken, or not taken, but I can look forward with a keen eye on my future self. As a woman heading back into a male-dominated environment in entertainment, I know to try hard, to never cower, and to come prepared to play their game; I know to seek out support in any way I can find it, preferably finding other women who I can entrust; and I know that truth to myself is my greatest weapon, ensuring I don’t veer from the respect I deserve in order to be smiling, nodding head.