“I totally thought you were.” “So like…you don’t do it anymore?” “But you must like still do it outside of school, right?” “Why’d you quit?” I cannot tell you how many times I’ve gotten those questions in the last two years.
If it wasn’t evident by…well by basically who I am as a person, I was a theatre kid in high school. Actually, I was a theatre kid for most of my life before college. I loved the thrill of performing, and the challenge it took to become someone else. Theatre was very much my escape, and I loved every second of it. A brightly lit stage became my second home, and all the actors and technical crew my second family. I literally poured my blood, sweat and tears into creating the best piece of art that I could. But then something changed. When I went to college I decided that I didn’t want to do it, and so I retired from being a theatre kid. It’s been two years, and I think it’s finally time to tell everyone why I did it.
If you don’t know, acting is a really rough business. Constantly auditioning and being told that you aren’t right for the part because not everyone can play every part…that is, unless you’re conventionally attractive/are in good graces with the person casting the movie/play/TV show. I am not a conventionally attractive person, which is something that I’m OK with, but I am a rather emotional person. After years of constantly being turned down, I knew that I didn’t have the strength to keep doing it. It takes a lot of courage to do that every day, and that is one of the many reasons I admire actors. I knew that if I continued to put myself through that, it probably wouldn’t have ended well.
Now comes the fun part.
The other main reason that I retired was because there were some people in my life who dashed my love of performing. (If you’re questioning whether I’m talking about you, I’m most likely not. The people know who they are.) These individuals would basically shut me out of conversations related to the upcoming plays/musicals and would tell me that I didn’t stand a chance against the other more talented people. In the moment, those were really hard things to hear, especially for someone who loved theatre as much as I do. These people took the thing I loved more than life itself and made it feel poisonous to me.
Since then I’ve realised that they were the poisonous ones, which is why I haven’t talked to them in two years. And honestly, I thank them, because without them I wouldn’t have discovered that I didn’t have the passion for performing. Had they not been so vicious to me I probably would have become a theatre major and discovered that I was lacking in passion when it was too late.
Who knows? I never will. At the end of the day, it’s all for the best because first and foremost, I am someone who doesn’t take criticism well (no matter how much I say that I do). Most likely I would have quit into my college career and I would have wasted credits.
I still very much follow theatre and Broadway. I have when the Tony nominations come out in my calendar and have blocked off five hours for the actual Tony Awards broadcast. I still attend theatre and listen almost exclusively to show tunes. I’m still plugged in, it’s just now I’m not plugged into a mic pack. I love the non-theatre kid version of Aaron. He’s pretty cool, and he’s really passionate about important things, not just about whether or not Laura Bennati deserves to win a Tony. She does, but that’s beside the point.
My purpose in writing this is not to throw shade at some people, I mean that was part of it. I wrote it because I think that having people who try to tear us down, makes us question why we're passionate about the things we are. Hopefully, you'll realize you are, but maybe you'll be like me and realize you aren't and that's OK, too. Don't let the haters get you down, but do let me make you reflect on your life.
And so I will answer the final question in the form of dialogue.
PERSON: Why’d you quit?
AARON: Because of haters. And because I’m following my real passion now, and loving every second of it.
