Growing up, I was a “winner.”
In school, we were promised that as long as we tried, we would succeed.
But now that I’ve entered adulthood, the rules have changed.
Job competition and fewer opportunities have made those instantaneous wins hard to come by.
It was the chance of a lifetime.
Even if I had a good day, it never felt good enough.
Despite my insecurities, colleagues reassured me that I was doing well for a beginner.
I was able to contribute a couple of story ideas, jokes, a decent casting suggestion.
Executives were starting to learn my name; agents were suddenly interested.
My future was beginning to look promising.
At least, that’s what I thought.
My mentor tried to assure me that I would have other options.
But in an industry based on momentum and perception, one loss can have a domino effect.
Still, I did my best to maintain relationships with my former coworkers.
I always thought I could look to him in a time of need.
A few weeks into my unemployment, I emailed him.
He sat down, and when I asked for help, offered his advice, which was unexpected.
“Imagine you were on a date with someone like this.
You would never want to be with this person.”
I sat in the booth, my heart sinking.
Had I overreacted to this setback in such a way that my attitude was now pushing some people away?
Was my intense need to succeed hurting me rather than helping me?
I reached out to him on my trip to New York and reintroduced the idea of working together.
Still, he did have a team and a platform to showcase my work.
In the face of what felt like nothing, it was something.
I didn’t know what to make of this.
Until this point, my life had always been sheltered and I’d followed a linear path.
I lived at home during and after college, believing that doing so kept me focused.
I was also emotionally dependent on my family.
We did everything together, from workouts to nightly dinners.
The thought of ever leaving them seemed unfathomable.
But that week in New York had opened my eyes in a way I hadn’t expected.
I left my nest and moved across the country not long after that trip.
I’ve found a new comedy team, one that believes in me and supports my work.
With their help, I’ve even produced my first video.
I’ve always struggled to take pride in my accomplishments.
I don’t need to rely on anyone else.
And the student inside me says I should get a trophy for that.
Photo Credit: Ciara Phelan
