Last night I did something way, way outside of my comfort zone. I auditioned for the Austin Listen to Your Mother show. I wanted to do it last year, but I was so in the depths of depression that I just couldn’t. This year, however, I stopped talking about submitting an entry and actually did it.
I was thrilled when I was invited to read my entry in a real audition. But then terror quickly set in. Standing up in front of people and reading my own work terrifies me.
In the week leading up to the audition, the mean little voices in my head had a great time, telling me that I was foolish for thinking that anyone would want to hear anything I had to say, asking who I thought I was to even think I deserved to be on the stage with the other women in the show. I hate those mean little voices.
By the time I left for the audition yesterday, I was a wreck. It wouldn’t have taken much to tip me over the edge into full-on meltdown. I kept thinking up excuses to not go. But I went, despite horrible traffic and miserable weather.
Even if I don’t make it into the final cast, and I very, very much want to be in the cast, I’ll be happy. I stood up and did something that truly scared me. That in and of itself is something to be proud of.