Confessions of a Hollywood Dropout (pt. 1)

posted 11th August 2010    Written by: Nikki    CATEGORY: All Posts, Job/Career/Work, Love/Relationships, Nikki, Quarterlife Crisis, Season 3

When I was a kid, I did NOT want to be an actor.  I felt very strongly about this.  There were two career choices in my mind: librarian or archeologist.

I wanted to be a librarian so I could read all the books (I don’t think I really understood the concept of a library), and I used to sit at the kitchen table with a pile of my parents books and stamp their inside covers.  There was a singular satisfaction in the guuush of the ink pad, the smaaack of the rubber stamp, and the authority I felt it imbued in me.  I would often curl up in the corner of the couch with a book, wrapping myself in the worlds I imagined from the words on the pages.

I wanted to be an archeologist because I was fascinated with history and I liked playing in the dirt.  In middle school, I even got to assist some University students on an archeological dig.  Now, when I say I was fascinated with history, I don’t mean names & dates, I mean “how scary would it have been to be part of a wagon train out west!” Or, “I wonder what it was really like in the Royal court of medieval times!”  I soon discovered I enjoyed dressing up and making believe I was living in another time period much more than I enjoyed carbon-dating chicken bones.

Then, at 12 years old, everything clicked. I watched Kenneth Branagh’s movie version of “Much Ado About Nothing” and I wanted to BE Emma Thompson.  Her character Beatrice was strong, sarcastic, funny and atypically beautiful.  I wanted to be that person, I wanted to play in that time period, I wanted to know those gorgeous words.  I immediately pulled my parent’s worn Complete Works of William Shakespeare off the shelf and tried to read it… the whole thing.  It was slow going, but that didn’t stop me.  For months, I walked around the house quoting “To be or not to be…”  I didn’t understand the meaning of all the words, but I loved the visceral feel of them rumbling in my throat and spilling from my lips with a life of their own.

At thirteen, years before ever kissing a boy, I was in love with William Shakespeare.

I was hooked and there was no denying it.  I worked in the local theater, took acting classes and did school plays.  I watched the Tonys and sometimes the Oscars and buzzed with the excitement of my future.  I went to college on an acting scholarship and did at least one play a semester.  As if cashing in on my childhood preparation, I played Hamlet in a University production.  I made it to the regional finals for a prestigious national acting award.  I imagined myself onstage in London or packing up my car, traveling state to state working in professional theater.

And I fell in love with a boy.  A real one, who was very much alive and woo’d me with words that were more beautiful to me than those of Shakespeare.

I graduated college and went to London.  And got rejection letters from every theater I sent my resume to… except one.  I did a play in a pub, west of the West End.  I saw as much theater as I could afford.  Sitting in the dark, heart fluttering in adoration, I saw Dame Judi Dench live onstage with the Royal Shakespeare Company.  I backpacked Europe.  I missed the boy desperately.  After 6 months, I decided to move to LA, not because I was an actor and that was the hub of the acting world, but because the boy lived there.

I moved into his life.  He’d been “the One” for 5 years; we lived together and we fell apart.

And then I was in this city I had never imagined myself in, frightened and grieving and resolving to make just one thing work out in all this mess.  I threw myself into my acting career with every ounce of my being.

It didn’t take long to learn that theater in LA is the bastard stepchild of movies, and treated like the dirt below the first step on the ladder to success.  So I turned my focus to film, learning the differences in acting techniques and how to play for the camera.  I auditioned for commercials a five year old could’ve written and got an agent that never called – not even once.  I let everything else I loved – writing, yoga, travel – fall by the wayside in the blinders-on pursuit of an LA success story.

Imagine having a college degree – magna cum laude, no less – in your field but being told it was a waste & you should’ve started at 5 if you’d really wanted this career.  Imagine having to pay for a job interview, and at the interview, having to sign a waiver that you understand this interview in no way means you’re even being considered for the job.  Imagine walking into a room full of people that look just like you, except hotter.  Imagine being told you’re the best candidate for the position except they can’t hire someone so short.  Or brunette.  Such a shame, we’ll keep you on file.

Five years of this and, instead of hating this absurd industry, I hated myself.  I wasn’t good enough, tall enough, thin enough, connected enough.  Despite being told in classes and on set, as I’d been told my whole acting life, that I was talented, I was never given the professional chance to prove it and therefore it started to lose meaning.  I didn’t believe in myself and I didn’t like the person I’d become.  The joy and creativity were gone; I was no longer an artist, but a face-for-hire.

And dating like a 5th member of Sex and the City, although exciting, was unfulfilling.  The Ex was a constant shadow over every relationship and I wondered if the part of me that knew how to love had faded away like Hamlet’s speech from my memory.

I’ve already told you about the breakdown.  About carrying the lonliness and failure achingly in my gut.  About crying, uncontrollably, every day.  About the feeling that a huge chunk of my heart was dying.

I decided that, in order to save myself, I had to stop acting.  I felt like a failure and a big ol’ mess, but my amazing friends were supportive & encouraged me to take a break and regroup. And in the stillness and emptiness that followed, I could just faintly hear, from across the world, an adventure calling…

to be continued…


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Comments (20)

20 Responses to “Confessions of a Hollywood Dropout (pt. 1)”

  • Just Me Says:
    August 11th, 2010 at 7:29 am

    Love this post…it's real, baby!

  • Alisha Says:
    August 11th, 2010 at 7:59 am

    Man that just sounds like such a tough process. It's not wonder you wanted to give up.Trying to follow your dreams shouldn't feel so hard! Can't wait for the next part!

  • Doniree Says:
    August 11th, 2010 at 8:06 am

    I can't wait to hear how this unfolds :)

  • Amy Says:
    August 11th, 2010 at 8:52 am

    Can't wait to read more, Nikki.

  • Molly_Hoyne Says:
    August 11th, 2010 at 8:53 am

    I know, I'm with Doni! What a cliffhanger! (Look at you all dramatic & such!) LA sounds soulcrushing. I'm amazed at anyone who can handle that much rejection in pursuit of dream- I know my skin wouldn't be thick enough…

    Beautiful post, N.

  • nikkiklecha Says:
    August 11th, 2010 at 9:09 am

    awww thanks ladies! I know, I know, I'm sooo dramatic – that's why I'm an actor! ;-p
    It's pretty tough at times, but there's also some really beautiful stuff, like the moment you DO book a part or when you get a sweet complement on set. It's like gambling – every once in a while you hit the jackpot & it feels so good it keeps you coming back for more… but is it healthy? hmmm…

  • marianschembari Says:
    August 11th, 2010 at 10:16 am

    I think it's fascinating that even before you knew you loved acting you loved being immersed in different worlds. Reading, libraries, history… whether or not you choose/chose to stay in acting, I think it really says something about who you are – that even as a child you were fascinated by lives that weren't your own.

    Wow, I feel really deep.

    Great post!

  • Maria Says:
    August 11th, 2010 at 12:52 pm

    Can't wait to hear more from you =) I like your style of writing and your honesty. This sounds like a film itself, it seems like life has given you a lot barriers to conquer but also to learn from. Listening to your story (which isn't complete yet, I understand) I feel the strong need to fight with my own barriers.
    Keep up, we hang on your lips! ;-)

  • erinmakesitwork Says:
    August 11th, 2010 at 4:40 pm

    Isn't it amazing how the one thing you've always wanted somehow turns into only a symbol of not being good enough? Last year, I took the jump to be a freelance writer (what I have dreamed of since childhood). Instead of being fulfilled I feel broken. Today, I got hired as preschool assistant teacher. A new path, a new passion.

    Yours is there too. I know it. Also, don't forget to remind yourself that you are good enough. Always.

  • RUBY Says:
    August 11th, 2010 at 4:58 pm

    I WANT MORE… UR ABSOLUTELY AMAZING GIRLIE! XO

  • Renee Says:
    August 12th, 2010 at 6:53 am

    Thick skin, indeed! I'm impressed you could take so much, Nikki… I think I'd be a broken soul by sunset!

  • Manderz Says:
    August 12th, 2010 at 8:39 am

    I guess we’ll just have to get used to all the cliffhangers. I am always amazed by people like you: who know what they want from a young age, and set out to pursue it no matter what.

  • nikkiklecha Says:
    August 12th, 2010 at 4:02 pm

    SO true! interesting… :) thanks!

  • nikkiklecha Says:
    August 12th, 2010 at 4:03 pm

    Thank you Maria!! Fight, girl, push those barriers back!

  • nikkiklecha Says:
    August 12th, 2010 at 4:04 pm

    Thank you – I think that IS often the hardest thing to remember. YAY for new paths and new passions – without them life would get pretty boring! Good luck with the new job!

  • nikkiklecha Says:
    August 12th, 2010 at 4:04 pm

    Thank you Ruby! You are too!!!!! xoxo

  • nikkiklecha Says:
    August 12th, 2010 at 4:07 pm

    Ha ha… well, life is full of 'em (cliffhangers, I mean…). It's funny you say that, because I never really feel like I know what I want, looking forward, but when I look back, it's so clear – this was always meant to be my path. I guess I'll probably say that about this whole mess too, in 20 years… That's sort of a calming thought, isn't it? :)

  • Marianne_A Says:
    August 15th, 2010 at 8:39 am

    I can identify with being a 'face for hire' and not being good enough and wanting to quit because of it. But I also hated the idea of being another statistic, one of the ones who tried it and didn't make it. After all, I still have that inner yearning for attention that a lot of actors and artists have. I guess it's a matter of balancing interests. Doing what's healthy for yourself at the same time that you pursue something creative and not defining yourself according to whether or not you've 'made it.' I wish I could've connected with more people like you when I was pursuing it – it might've made things easier. But I'm enjoying the connecting now – rock on!

  • nikkiklecha Says:
    August 15th, 2010 at 11:03 am

    I could not agree more! The only healthy way to do this is to balance your creativity as an artist with your pursuit of a paycheck, to balance your drive for the art with the other things in life you love, to balance your personal view of yourself with the professional rejections you have to face. And defining your OWN success, not just latching onto what LA calls success. When I lay it all out like that, it sounds so easy, but – you know – it SOOO is not!! :) Thanks for the support; it's nice to know someone can relate. xx

  • Charity Says:
    August 17th, 2010 at 10:34 am

    I just found this site, and was reading blog posts and this one grabbed me–my first comment! I just have to say–been there, done that. I did the LA scene for several years, myself, and the soul-crushing nature of it was more than I ever dreamed. I got the same sort of comments all the time–"you're so talented, but…" not the right look, need to lose just 5 more pounds, could you color your hair this instead? I ran away to law school–which turned out not to be the dream either, honestly–but in doing so, I finally found myself back in small theaters, on stage again, healing and rediscovering my love for performing and connecting with audiences, so that's at least something. Still trying to figure out where I'm going with life (law certainly isn't it, nor Hollywood either), but at least I found my love of my art again. I can't wait to see where your path has taken you, as well.

    Thanks for the post!

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