Years ago, when I first got to California, I spent a lot of time at auditions. If you’re into acting, you know that auditions are where you go if you want to feel horrendously un-special. At each one, you’re surrounded by a hundred people who look, dress, and walk exactly like you, except they’re all prettier. And they’re your competition.
Of course, I always wanted to fit in. To be like them. If l were more like them, I believed, I’d get the part. If I were just like the others, my paradoxical brain suggested, I’d stand out as a star.
Here’s what was in style at the time: light blue jeans, white tee shirt, and white cowboy boots. (Yep, white.) That’s what all the cool girls were wearing, so that’s what I wanted to wear, too.
So I saved up all my waitressing money, and I went out and bought that exact outfit. Then, I wore it one day walking proudly through Beverly Hills, where I passed three girls, all wearing a variation of the same outfit.
And I thought, My god. I’ve spent a...
But then, I stumbled upon a new idea that totally changed my mindset.
