Dear Theatre,

Though this may sound like another goofy love letter to something seemingly irrelevant, I do not know if I have ever had the proper time to thank you for all of the happiness you bring me. I wanted to take this time to thank you for all of the opportunities that you have provided and all of the wonderful people you have allowed me to meet.

You came into my life during the fifth grade, against my will. When my mom suggested I audition for a production of Annie Warbucks I absolutely hated the idea. "I did it in college and I think you'll like it," she told me. Yeah right, Mom. Little did I know reluctantly attending those auditions would change my life in amazing ways. I landed the role of Grace Farrell, and while I was way too young to play a 30 year old secretary, I still caught the theater bug.

Thank you for being accepting, always. No matter the people who come to you, you accept them with open arms. You create a safe haven for all and a creative oasis. I never felt scared being my spastic, energetic self in theater. I felt accepted.

Thank you for the late nights with the best people in the world. We are all a little sleep deprived, a little caffeine high, and a little sweaty. We are all craving to stay up until 1 A.M. so we can sleep in until noon.

Thank you for my extensive collection of dance clothes and show t-shirts. You keep me comfy and slouchy. Also, thank you for introducing me to the wonderful world of leggings as pants. I have never appreciated something more. You make me whole.

Thank you for my ridiculous makeup collection. I will only wear that electric pink lip stain once ever in my life and never again. But I still have it none-the-less.

Thank you for the inside jokes. No one outside of that production will ever understand what I'm saying but they never fail to make me smile. "A little lusty, a little crusty, and a little bit sorry-grateful."

Thank you for bringing me more happiness than anything else. You give me permanent butterflies and always make me smile. And sweat. Thanks for the sweat.

I love you,

Thank you.