Do Chances Expire?

When I was young, I wanted to be an actress. Not for just a year, but from ages 6-16. A good ten year run of an ambitious and quite unlikely profession. Before age six I also wanted to be a nun (so I didn't have to have children) and the president. But while I had dreams of acting, I worked hard. I endured countless plays, musical solos in which I probably was not talented enough to have, and late night rehearsals where I'd cry as I wiped the gobs of makeup off of my face with cold cream in exhaustion. My parents were proud, but not exactly stage parents. They had five children to drop-off to activities, thus they most likely feared I'd start demanding headshots. I didn't, but I do recall my mom taking several staged photos on the deck. Shockingly the only place they landed were a photo album.

But once I became an age when reality became apparent, I suddenly realized the insanity of this dream of mine. At 16, as I played a major character in a play while being assigned understudy for the two leads (for a girl with short term memory problems this was particularly challenging), in my highly pressurized mindset I suddenly realized I had no chance. I looked in the mirror and said to myself, "Listen- you don't look like a supermodel and you don't look quirky. You're never gonna make it." And I quit, cold turkey. Why work so hard at the impossible? Forget the fact I loved it. I also thought I was too small. Ha! If only someone would have told me the size standards in Hollywood...

The possibility of the chance of anything- does this expire? As we get older and go about our paths and lives and jobs, are possibilities left in our dust? Or does cynicism road block? I wonder.  As age makes us wiser, unfortunately, it also makes us more judgemental. We think most is impossible. I don't want to stop thinking of the possibilities. Although my chances of becoming President of something other than the Kettle One Martini Club are slim.