Hard Truths: Choices, Man. Fucking CHOICES.

You know what really sucks? Owning you were wrong.

I mean, it’s one thing to realize it. Then it’s another thing entirely to admit it.

But it’s a whole other taco combo meal to OWN that you were wrong.

Owning shit it hard.

Because if you think about it, we know a lot of things. Like, I know some shit about the Trobrianders of Papua, New Guinea.

I know some shit about stripping color out of your hair and looking like Ronald McDonald.

I know some shit about how quickly the sound of a cat about to vomit will wake your ass up from a dead sleep.

I know some shit about making bad choices when it comes to men. And money.

And I know some shit about procrastinating and the fine fucking art of NOT NOW.

Knowing it’s one thing. Admitting it has an impact on your life, another.

Owning that shit — like, putting it into your heart and making decisions based on that shit — is something else.

Which is why we, as humans, continuously do stupid shit and ask ourselves our favorite dumb question time and again:


And it’s because we had a choice.

And we chose to do it.

And that’s today’s hard truth because it’s one that just sucker punched me in the gut:

We have choices, even when we think we do not.

The past 19 days of writing has given me some not-quite-welcomed realizations about this life I thought I loved living. Most of them have to do with things I thought I was doing well (spoiler: I’m not).

And last night, it boiled down to choices.

Every day we go to a job we hate — we make a choice.

Every day we stay in a shitty relationship — we make a choice.

Every day we use yet another excuse to avoid doing the hard work — we make a choice.

Every day we look in the mirror and find something wrong (yet again — and yeah, I’m looking at your thighs) with ourselves — we make a choice.

Every time we walk around instead of through — we make a choice.

Every time we say that racism isn’t “my problem” — we make a choice.

Every time we say, “Well, I didn’t vote for HIM” — we make a choice.

Every time we say, “I can’t ______” — we make a choice.

We make choices all damn day long. But here’s the bitch of it:

The choices we make convince us that we don’t have choices.

Let’s talk about me. And I hate telling you this but I will anyways.

I’ve had body image issues, like, forever. How old is the planet? Add 1000 years on to that number and that’s a rough estimate of the number of years I’ve had body image problems. I can look in the mirror and pick myself apart until I am some slovenly beat unfit for the Star Wars franchise.

And I have let this choice — my choice to look in the mirror and see someone who’s not enough and frankly, too much in all the wrong places — fuck up my mind, my performing career, and assorted and sundry other things.

Like, I’m fairly sure that every time I’ve gone into an on-camera audition (like for TV and commercials) this past year, I’ve had it in my mind that I’m not Hollywood thin so there’s no fucking way I’m going to book the role. I mean, why would they want ME when I look around the waiting room and see a handful of women thinner and younger than me with longer hair and fuller lips and jesus, are those Prada shoes?

I mean, WHY?

I’ve made this choice — to think like this. To think that there is something physically unworthy about myself that makes me thereby unworthy of booking this gig I’m auditioning for.

And shit. That hurts. That hurts because there are many of those parts I would have love to have booked. And I guarantee you that had my attitude and choice of how I viewed my worth been different, I just might have.

Because it’s something to see someone walk into a room full of balls and I-dare-you ready to captivate you with her HER. And it’s another to have that same person walk into the room hoping she gets it right and doesn’t completely suck.

And what’s funny is that I don’t have this problem with theatre auditions. I mean, you see a lot more “real” people in theatre than you do on TV.

Yet I choose to think like this about these audition scenarios. And it’s high time I made the choice to think something that’s much more full of FUCK YEAH than fuck me.

So today, I want you to look at THE THING.

That thing you’ve been making a choice to fuck up. That thing that’s been fucking you and you hate it and want it to be different but goddammit if the world isn’t standing right in your way and not letting it happen.

Today, you can make a choice about THE THING.

And here’s the beautiful thing about choices — there’s always another one to be made.

Choice A begets Choice B which gets you to Choice F and G and H and G gets you to P and…

But you can’t get beyond A unless you stop choosing A.

Realize what you’ve been doing.

Admit that the choice you made is YOUR CHOICE.

And own the incredible gift you have to make a choice.









Own the incredible gift you’ve been given of being able to make choices. Because the only thing keeping you from making a better choice than the one you’ve been making is excuses.

And I talked about how I feel about those little turds yesterday.

Because baby — you’re a badass. It’s high time your choices reflected the badass part…and not just the bad or the ass.

Choices: Fucking up VICTIM STATUS since…forever.

Like this? Share it. Subscribe to it. Print it out and rub it on your ribs just above your hip bones. Whatever you do — do SOMETHING.

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