In one of my first conversations with Heather about bringing Listen To Your Mother to the Twin Cities, I remember saying, "I don't know what I bring to this project. I'm just excited to be a part of it." I didn't see anything remarkable about my statement at the time but I can look back at it and see so clearly my internal monologue...
"Who am I?" (You are just a small, unknown blogger.)
"What do I know?" (Nothing.)
"How did I get here?" (You lucked out.)
"Why do they think I have something to offer?" (You charmed your way into this.)
I am not unusual. So many of us struggle to own our experiences, to embrace our talents. Why do we keep ourselves so small?
It's been roughly nine months since I had that conversation with Heather and a lot can change in nine months.
Tomorrow, I will have the distinct pleasure of standing on a stage to read a piece that I wrote just for this show. I will look out at the audience and the cast and my c0-director and producers and can say, "We made this happen."
My internal dialogue is a little different these days. There are fewer questions and far more declarations.
"I am a good writer."
"I know many things."
"I am not just lucky. I work hard."
"I am pretty damn charming."
I am honored to have been a part of this team of directors and producers and am in awe of the cast, many of whom are facing their own doubts as they stand up to share their stories.
We did this. Together.