Why I Went Home — Looking Back

On March 4, 2017, I graduated from the New York Film Academy’s Musical Theatre Conservatory. Two weeks later, while many of my peers were auditioning, I flew back home to Milwaukee. It may seem a bit strange. I had spent the previous two years honing my craft and preparing myself for the professional world. I had hours of voice lessons, acting classes, and dance classes under my belt. I shot two short films. My audition book was in order. I was ready to get out there and achieve my dream of being a working actor.

So why did I leave?

Sometimes I wish I didn’t. I’ve been back in New York City for a year now and I still feel behind, like I missed a lot in the year and a half I was gone. But I needed to go home. And no matter how much FOMO I’ve gotten, I’m glad I did.

Those of you who knew me well knew that during my second year at NYFA, I was a mess. For reasons unknown, my anxiety flared. The main source of my anxiety was emetophobia, which is the fear of vomiting. I’ve dealt with it for as long as I can remember, and it had suddenly gotten worse. I was having panic attacks almost every night. There were even times I missed classes because the panic attacks were so bad. I was insecure, depressed, moody, and negative. And yet I was surprised people didn’t want to be around me. After one particularly difficult breakdown, I knew I needed help. So I decided to return home after graduation and do an intensive outpatient program for anxiety and OCD. I knew that this was something I had to do. So, ashamed and disappointed, I packed my bags and got a one-way ticket to Milwaukee.

The first few weeks home I spent mostly sleeping. The anxiety drained me. It felt as if all the energy had been sapped from my body. I would wake up well into the afternoon, often only leaving my room to eat. And because of my anxiety making me feel sick, I probably didn’t eat enough. I would lay in my bed scrolling through social media, seeing all my classmates having fun in New York. I was jealous of them. Jealous that they didn’t seem to have the problems I did. I felt like a failure.

And then I started the therapy. Oh boy, was it hard. Exposure therapy is still one of the hardest and most anxiety-inducing things I’ve ever done. I had to wake up at 8am Monday through Thursday and fight through panic attacks to desensitize myself from my phobia. It was torture. I had to keep track of every exposure I did and every panic attack I had. And not only did I have to do exposure work at therapy, but I also had to do homework! That was probably the worst part.

The only thing that helped was my stepmom’s golden retriever, Tucker. Every day after therapy, I would go over to her house and walk him. Knowing how happy he was to get walks and cuddles gave me the motivation to get out of the house and get active. On the bad days, I’d wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face in his fur. He seemed to understand my pain and comforted me in ways only a dog can. I still credit Tucker as a big part of my recovery.

Therapy went on for eight long weeks. Slowly, I started getting better. My mind felt clearer, I was more confident, and the things that previously induced panic attacks didn’t bother me as much. So with new tools to help me deal with my anxiety, I left therapy and resumed sessions with my regular therapist. But then there was another problem. I felt stuck. What was I supposed to do now? I wasn’t ready to go back to New York, but I didn’t know what to do with my life in the meantime. I was feeling better, but I was still anxious, depressed, and mentally drained. And worst of all, I had doubts that I could be a successful actor.

But then Sister Act happened. I auditioned for this local theatre production and got cast as Sister Mary Robert. This was my first leading role ever, so I was quite literally living “The Life I Never Led”. It felt great to be acting again. And I had the most amazing, supportive cast ever. Everyone was so positive and encouraging. I felt loved and appreciated. I looked forward to every rehearsal and performance. I started to gain confidence as an actor. My mood lifted. I felt lighter. Then the same theatre had auditions for a production of Beauty and The Beast. I got cast as a Silly Girl. I couldn’t have been happier. But this meant that I was working two shows at once. I would have a weekend of Sister Act performances and then have a full week of Beauty and The Beast rehearsals. It was hard and very, very, tiring, but it was so worth it. I may not have been getting paid, but I was working. It felt like my life had meaning again.

I was playing the Stoner Chick in a production of Heathers the Musical when I started to feel the itch to go back to New York. I was feeling bored with the slow pace of suburban Wisconsin and yearned for the hustle and bustle of the city. I had a part-time job dog sitting, so I saved up money during the summer and searched for a place to live.

After booking a long-term Airbnb, I had the official date I’d be going back to New York. And even though I was excited, I still had my reservations. What if I can’t get any acting jobs? What if I’m not good enough? What if my anxiety gets bad again and I have to come back home? But in my determination to succeed, I pushed those thoughts away. I was not going to let fear rule my life again.

Then the big day came. On November 1st, 2018, at around 2pm, I landed at LaGuardia Airport. I was feeling all the emotions. Scared, sad, excited, homesick. But most of all, I felt accomplished. I actually did it. I wasn’t really sure where to go from there, but it was a start. The unknown was terrifying, but I found a certain freedom in it. Things may not go the way I plan, but I guess that’s part of the fun.

Anyway, it’s officially been a year since I moved back to New York, and I look back at my time spent home with fondness. I miss it. Even the therapy, as much as I hated it. If I never went home, I would not be the person I am today. Every panic attack, mental breakdown, and existential crisis was worth it. I went through something very difficult and came out stronger. And I have many people to thank for this. I thank the therapists that helped me during my therapy for not giving up on me, even when I was being stubborn and difficult. I thank my friends and family (including my sweet dog, Tucker) for always sticking by my side, especially through the difficult days. I thank Sunset Playhouse in Elm Grove, WI for the wonderful experiences I had during the THREE amazing shows I did there.

Now I may be better, but I still have work to do. The emetophobia still lingers, I still have some self-esteem and confidence issues, and I still get the occasional panic attack. But I know now that I can take whatever life throws at me. I can be scared and face my fears anyway. I know I am talented, kind, worthy, and destined to do great things. I am not weak. I can say that I’m fine, and mean it. And I’m no longer ashamed about my struggles. If you ask me, that’s pretty good progress.