The price of satisfaction

I have experienced just enough moments of greatness to realize that, on the whole, I am a disappointment to myself.

Believe me, I'm not unhappy or depressed about this.  And I know that every day, every second, offers the possibility of a new start.

The trouble is that my greatest wish has been granted.  My greatest desire has been fulfilled.  And that has considerably softened my drive.

What I have wanted most in life was to be loved, securely loved.  To be with a partner with whom I don't have to try to be any way but exactly the way I am.  Somebody I can be as strong with as I am, can go toe to toe with.  To be in a happy, relaxed home, free from tension.  To have someone to go through old age with, because it looks as though some of that is going to be really hard.  To have someone to share my sense of humor with, to get gooey over kittens with.  Someone to help me with (meaning handle) technology so that I can remain a Luddite.

And now I have all that, all that and more.  My drive (except for those big honkin' O's) has diminished.  I'm so content just hangin' out, being domestic, taking walks, getting together with friends, being with my husband and kitties.

Yes, Sweet Hubby, if I'm a disappointment, I'm afraid it's your fault.

I wonder if this is why women haven't taken over leadership of the world. Is it possible that our maternal drive (not universal but certainly common enough for generalization) becomes fulfilled by children (or by pets for some of us) and so we simply don't feel the urge to fight and conquer and lead and be the warriors we could be?  We outnumber and outlive men.  We fought for and got the vote.  Why are we not in charge?   Surely it would be a sweeter world if we were.  Hmmmmm.

Following up

Thank you to everyone who posted comments of enthusiasm after the most recent entry about the two auditions.  Here's the latest:  The morning of the day I was scheduled to audition for the second, larger role, I got a text from my agent letting me (and her other clients) know that the role had been cast and we would not be auditioning.

So now I'm waiting to hear if I get the smaller role.  But if one role has been cast, there's a good chance they both have been, so I'm not harboring any expectations.  Still, it was nice to have the opportunity to strut my stuff, and nice to read the casting directors comments. I don't much mind not getting a role when I know I've done my best.  That just means I'm not what they were looking for.  There will be other episodes of the show, and other roles needing actors, so fingers crossed for another chance in the future.  

Now, back to putting my focus on writing. 

Something happened and it's big - to me

I have always wanted to be a professional actress.  I mean always.  I cannot remember a time when I didn't fervently, hungrily, rather desperately want to act.  For a long time I also wanted to be famous, but that fever dream died when I matured enough to understand how ghastly fame can be, what toll it can take on a life.  But still, I wanted to be an actress.  

I dropped out of college to go to Hollywood to pursue a career, and had just enough success to stay hopeful, never enough to be satisfied.  Fortunately, at some point I discovered that I have a talent for playwrighting and began to put my focus on that.  In a lot of ways, writing is much more satisfying than acting because I don't have to wait for someone to give me a job; I can write any time, anywhere, about anything.  I've had more success with writing, and even thought I was giving up my acting career when I moved to Seattle.  I had no idea that my career would be revitalized here, that I would have even more success than in Los Angeles.  I think I'm a better actress now, and I certainly do better at auditions, because I no longer have that youthful, desperate hunger.  I do my best, and then I go home and write.

To cut to the chase, I recently auditioned for a nice little role in a TV show.  And it turned out the audition went so well, I now have an audition for a different, bigger role on the same episode.  My agent shared with me that the casting director had texted her, after my first audition, "She is beyond lovely.  Such a beautiful soul and great read."  This second role I'm reading for is substantial.  The character has a name (not all my small roles have had), several scenes, a tragic background, a story arc.  And if I don't get this role, I feel pretty certain I'll get the first one I read for.

In my world, this is huge.  This is fantastic news.  This is incredibly affirming, tells me that I may actually have some acting talent.  The  prospect of getting a  role like this at this point in my career is terribly exciting, like jump up and down exciting.

What feels strange is that I don't really have anyone to tell about this.  Sweet Hubby is happy for me and proud of me, of course, but he's not a jump up and down kind of guy.  My non-acting friends will also be happy for me, but won't really understand the significance of this chapter, and if I tell my acting friends, who would understand, it would feel like bragging or lording it over them.  So I'm saying it here.  I'M SO EXCITED!!  I DID A GOOD JOB!  THEY LIKE ME, THEY REALLY LIKE ME!  I'M GOOD AT THIS!!  And always the thought in the background that I don't like to admit but can't ignore: Maybe this will lead to something even bigger and better.  It probably won't.  Heck, I might not get either role.  But I've never been one to avoid getting excited just because I might be disappointed later. So right now I'm just going to go ahead and be thrilled.