All former theater kids know how it feels to grow up under the spotlight, with a director screaming cues and all eyes watching you. It may have been a lot of pressure and stress, but there was nothing you loved more. Nerve-racking auditions, tiring rehearsals and opening nights were special moments you looked forward to.
The theater felt like your second home. You knew to pack a lunch (and maybe dinner as well) ahead of time because you were going to be rehearsing for hours. Your fellow actors, directors and crew were your family members, not just your friends.
Then suddenly all those things began to change as you got older. After graduating high school, you realized that people in college can sing and act much better than you. Not only was that intimidating, but you were also busier. Between balancing a heavier course load, social life and bigger responsibilities, it was time to branch out and participate in new clubs.
One day you woke up and realized that your show days were finally over.
Maybe one day you will find yourself back on stage, who knows? However, it is okay to take your final bow. There is nothing wrong with acknowledging that not everyone makes it to Broadway and not everything lasts forever. (I certainly was never meant to pack my bags for New York City.)
I am grateful for every moment I have spent on stage over the years. Theater has given me a great sense of confidence in myself and my capabilities that can never be taken away. I was always a quiet kid, but as soon as the curtain opened my voice could roar louder than a lion. My acting days also gave me friends and memories that will be with me for the rest of my life.
Of course, I will still always love theater and yearn for the chance to perform again. I will gladly blow my paychecks on tickets to my favorite musicals, whether they are local productions or right on Broadway. I will sing my heart out in the shower to my favorite Andrew Lloyd Webber and Stephen Sondheim classics. The theater will always be a huge part of me, even though now I am on the other side of the curtain.