As I near my 28th trip around the sun this coming October, it’s become increasingly common that I reflect on the choices I’ve made and how those choices have led me to where I am today. If I am being honest with you, I am nowhere near where I thought I would be at this point in my life when I was a little girl. I had dreams that remain unrealized. I would be lying if I said that I haven’t, at times, fallen into the trap of believing that it is too late for me to achieve them.
I was a child of many passions; music was my first love. I was introduced to music as a young girl through inheriting my mother’s CD collection. Ranging from Mariah Carey to Shakira, to Shania Twain, all the way to Queen Latifah, I was blessed to be exposed to a diverse array of musical genres from very early on. And it wasn’t very long before I discovered that I, myself, had my own talent for singing. Inspired by the dynamic and flamboyant vocal stylings of my personal hero, Beyoncé Giselle Knowles, I spent my entire childhood developing my voice. At the time, it was without question in my mind that I had been put on this earth to follow in her footsteps.
In my teenage years, I decided I wanted to pursue an academic career in vocal music, so I locked in and set my sights on The High School for Performing Arts™ (a pseudonym, as this place doesn’t deserve any clout—think of the iconic movie FAME). I rehearsed tirelessly for months on my audition piece. I became ill and lost my voice the week before my audition date, requiring me to procure a doctor’s note to reschedule. The day finally arrived, a brisk November morning, and I had prepared a performance of “I Know Where I’ve Been” from the musical, Hairspray (my mother’s idea; this is one of her favorite songs to this day). I remember leaving that audition confidently, believing that all my preparation would lead me down the right path. And seemingly, it did, as at the end of that year, I received an offer to attend The High School for Performing Arts™. To me, this was a glorious personal victory, as well as a massive stride towards my girlish dreams of pop stardom. It served as proof to my young, malleable mind that in this life, hard work does pay off. However, upon beginning my journey at The High School for Performing Arts™ in the coming fall, I would be smacked dead in the face by the realization that I had become a small fish in a big pond.
My first vocal teacher was an older, pot-bellied man, a basso profondo (deep bass), whose voice would vibrate throughout the room as he’d pick me out of the choir to chastise me for not singing loudly enough for his liking. He was a censorious critic, a fabulous pianist, and once upon a time, he was an understudy in the Phantom of the Opera. But for me, he was a thorn in my side, a has-been who existed solely to highlight my failures and affirm my adolescent feelings of inadequacy. This would set the tone for what would become of the rest of my academic career.
I regret that I stood by as I was continuously ridiculed by my mentors and passed over for every opportunity that I ever wanted at that institution. I sat on the sidelines like a neglected child, watching for four years as my peers were prioritized, receiving the education, positive reinforcement, and support I had craved while I slipped deeper and deeper into depression. I grew disconnected from my gift, and I’m not sure exactly when, but at some point, I fell out of love with music. By the time of my graduation, I had completely put my dreams of a music career behind me, but I never did stop singing.
The years following my time at The High School for Performing Arts™ have been eye-opening, liberating, and transformative to say the least. I’ve discovered new passions in the worlds of beauty, fashion, romance, and writing. I’ve fallen in love and have gotten married. I’ve chased new dreams, and I’ve grown significantly along the way (read What Working in Retail Makeup Taught Me About Myself). I have come to know myself much more intimately and deeply than I had ever before. Yet, despite all this, I admit I’ve struggled to cope with the pain of a dream deferred. Ironically, it was Jessica Sanchez, of all people, receiving delicious vindication on America’s Got Talent last week (a whopping twenty years after her first run on the show) that led me to the realization of just how irrational this fear actually is. The truth of the matter is that I am a young woman, in the midst of my best years, with my whole life ahead of me. I will be in control of my own destiny. And who knows, perhaps with a bit of hard work and perseverance, my 28th year could be the one that ushers in the dawn of my pop star era.
