Hard to Believe

Last night, I was out an an event for a theatre company I worked with in New York that is expanding its presence here in LA.

I saw a bunch of people, but I also caught up with an old boss of mine. We talked about what I'm up to and what he's up to - his clients are behind six pilots this year that are waiting for pick ups. I just finished up year two on my show as a Co-Producer this year. He looked at me, proud. I said that this is what I've been wanting to do for so long. I also help run a theatre company. And I teach. I'm hitting every area I've wanted to be involved in.

Seven years ago I was working for him. And I had worked there for seven years. I wanted to do this for so long and sometimes I forget to be grateful. I get caught up in everything I have to do and all the demands I feel are made on me. About six years ago this June I got off the hamster wheel of the business. I was tired of running on the treadmill of trying to make it with little success. It led me down a path of falling back in love with writing and having success with this version of myself. And in order to do that, I had to get back on the treadmill. It's different this time around because I understand my value in a way I didn't previously. I'm presenting a version of myself that's more truthful and therefore more vulnerable.

But to get there a lot of things had to happen over several years. Five years ago, my Dad died. That changed my priorities completely. It also opened me up to the idea that life could be whatever I decided to make it. It also unlocked a fierceness in me that I hadn't allowed to be present before. I could be a motherfucker - and I kind of liked it. My father would say that prepared me for a life in this business. He would be happy that I've got a dickish side to me for sure. It means that no one fucks with me. Four years ago, I stopped going to weekly therapy. I was still dealing with my grief. I decided that I would take my grief on and deal with it head on. Fortunately, I was on unemployment and managed to stretch the finances a bit. Three years ago, I decided to make room for writing on a serious level. I both decided to become more of a professional and at the same time opened myself up to the possibility that writing would just be something I loved to do and that's all it had to be. During my Dad's illness it became a means of survival. And if that's all it was, that would be fine. I would find another way to make money. I had an office for about six months. I started subbing for a friend of mine at San Diego State. I also seriously started meditating. I wrote five scripts that year. Two years ago, I spent time working on a new play and would constantly say to friends, "I don't care if this thing gets produced." I spent eight months working on it. I made no money that year. I decided I needed to mix things up and applied to all sorts of jobs. I was trying to get teaching gigs, but couldn't get arrested. I almost got a job in Portland as a literary manager at a theatre. I was ready to leave LA for new adventures. I was committed to finding work. But nothing was happening, so I kept working on the play. That play was fantastic and would end up getting me my first TV job the following year. It opened up a lot of doors. It also helped me grow as a writer.

Last year, I got my first TV job. I wrote another play that broke me open as a human being, about the year spent with my Dad while he was dying. I was asked to join a theatre company. It was a big year of transition. I broke up with my boyfriend of four and a half years. I found out he started dating someone a month after we broke up. Last year was such a banner year and so many things happened that were unexpected. I also joined the WGA last year. I wrote two episodes of our show, which became three episodes of our show after our finale, which I wrote, became two episodes. I got single credit for all three of those episodes.

So when I say I can't believe that I'm here, it's true. But I have to break it down like I just did to experience the gratitude that comes with knowing I've accomplished so much in the past seven years. I decided to live my truth. I decided to live by my own rules and it took me a long road to get there. But I am grateful for every year, month, week, day, hour, minute and second of that journey. I'm truly grateful for all of it because each moment is etched in my DNA. I have to remember the road because it makes me appreciate everything happening now. When I was on the hamster wheel before, I didn't know how good I had it. I had never lived a life where I could appreciate my accomplishments.

I remember finding a certificate years ago when we were going through my Dad's things. The certificate acknowledged that I had been in the top 1% of all applicants to my high school that year as an eighth grader. I was in the 99th percentile of everyone who had applied that year. I remember finding that and wondering why I had lived my life up to that point as the bottom one percent versus the top one percent. I wanted to be that person. That was a goal.

And now I live that. I sometimes forget. But I mainly try to live as that person. I am a fucking Co-Producer on a TV show and if I don't appreciate it, how can I expect anyone else to? I'm a baller, a shot caller. Actually, I'm a freeballer. I'm  reminded of that whenever I meet with my students. I had a student last year ask me, "How does it feel?" How does what feel, I asked him back. "How does it feel to be doing the thing you set out to do. How does that feel?"

I was blown away by the question. I was humbled that he saw me that way. And then I realized he was right. I did do the things I set out to do. I continue to do the things I set out to do. I will get the next job and the next one after that and I will relish those experiences - both good and bad.  When I meet people, they're impressed. And that's okay. Sometimes I'll wish I was further along or I'll down play an accomplishment and then someone will say to me, "I wish I was where you are."

It shouldn't be hard to believe. It should be hard not to lose it with gratitude. It should be hard not to burst into tears. And sometimes I do that too.

Last year, at the reading of my Dad play, I was receiving a round of applause. I was embarrassed, as I usually am. And then a friend of mine gave me a thumbs up, like they were saying, "You did it." I LOST IT. I burst into tears for two minutes and I couldn't stop. I wrote something that meant something to people. I also became the person capable of writing that play. I put everything into it and when I was done, I cried uncontrollably. It was really overwhelming. In that moment, I was living like that one percenter. I was so grateful I had stopped being afraid.

And that's sometimes hard to believe. That I let go of that fear. But I did and now it's time to move on and do the next great thing.

My intention is to feel.
My intention is to grow.
My intention is to be okay.
My intention is to smile through it.

I am grateful for the two years I've been on our show.
I am grateful that people listen to me.
I am grateful to be a leader among friends.
I am grateful to be loved.
I am grateful that my life is the life of my choosing.