In class the other day, we were asked to work on 'vulnerability' ahhhhh vulnerability, fabulous. *insert straight face emoticon here.

I began to fret, my palms went clammy, my armpits started sweating profusely and as I watched other people in class go up, and 'be vulnerable' I panicked. I had no heart. I was emotionless. No tears came, I just sat and watched, numb and empty. My brain fogged over. Who could I sit and talk to and be honest with and what could I get vulnerable about? Because that was all he was asking us to do. Substitute a person from class, for someone you want to talk to and be honest with, and let yourself get vulnerable.

OK so here is the deal... In 'real life' 'real time' I get vulnerable over a jelly bean, I can cry because the guy serving me coffee was mean, or because my pink socks turned my grey undies even greyer. I cry when my boyfriend eats the last of my crisps or when there is a dog that looks sad sitting outside of the super market... and I was under the impression I couldn't substitute one of the class members for a dog. I'm emotional, I am vulnerable. I wear my heart on my sleeve and feel fragile at the best of times. What was even more frustrating was I am hormonal (its that time of the month) yet I couldn't shed a sad tear or connect with what people were saying. Because my brain was to busy going 1000 miles per hour dealing with all my thoughts.

I sat for at least two hours wondering who I could talk to... My Dad? Daddy issues? Nope that didn't feel right, I couldn't connect with that. My ex who cheated on me? Nope, Over it. My mum, talk to my mum about my worry and concern for her happiness? That felt better, that felt right, but going over the things I would say just didn't make me feel sad. There was concern, and of course some vulnerability, but it was like I was made of led.

I know what makes me sad deep deep down. I know what frustrates me, upsets me and what makes me feel screaming and throwing a tantrum.

Myself. 

I couldn't possibly talk to myself could I? Wouldnt everyone think I was narcissistic? What was crazy was, I was sitting there feeling everything the teacher was asking us to feel. I had felt vulnerable from the second I had walked into class. Vulnerability runs through my veins. What stops it from pouring all over the floor, what holds the vulnerability in? For me, I guess it is trust, or lack of. With my mum or my closest friends I feel no ways about saying 'I feel lost' or 'I feel dislikeable' I delve into those feelings head first and verbally projectile vomit them all over the place. But to admit to a room full or pears, people who you think, want you to be confident and self assured. People who you are sure will judge you for your needyness to be liked, or to impress. Because we all know its not cool to care if people like you right? We are meant to be these humans with assurance up to our eyeballs. (not too much or that is threatening) but just enough for people to 'not' think that you NEED friends or NEED to be accepted. Needyness is repelling. I know this. I feel it, breathe it and lecture that shiz all day everyday... but deep down, all I kept thinking through the whole of class is...

'I hope these people don't think I am pretentious' 'I hope they don't think I am boring' 'I hope they don't judge me and want me to fail' 'I hope they don't sit there praying they don't get put in my group' 'I hope they think I deserve to be there as much as them'

and whilst I am sitting there feeling vulnerable, trying to somehow find vulnerability and not knowing where to look, I am torn between who I am and who I want to be, against who I am not, and who I want people to think I am... and in all of that I know this is all insanity.

I have read many a self help book. I get what they say about, being in the moment, being present, not needing peoples validation. I hear Echart Tolle and Marianne Williamson loud and clear. I preach this stuff all day long. Because I know its true. I know the essence of who I am, and being 'me' is all I can be. The answer is truly in being comfortable with who you are, and deep down, I believe that accepting who I am, and being OK with that, is what people will ultimately like. I like people who are open and real. Its people that do the most covering up that I cant hack, despite having compassion and knowing where the ego crap comes from, because I have those insecurities too.

I came out to LA feeling rather confident in who I am. I have done a lot of soul searching over the last few years. I know peoples validation means nothing, I know that I don't need anyone's approval, I know that not everyone will like me, and often I know that will be because of an insecurity in them and not a default in me. I know that when I don't like someone it is usually best to look at myself and see what it is in me that I see in them. I know that only the universe (substitute with God or Love or another universal word for something so great you cannot define) knows the truth. And at the end of the day that is all that matters. I know that not everyone will think I am a good actress, or that I am funny, or interesting and that it is all subjective and as I approach thirty I felt like I was finally coming to terms with that...

Then you get on a plane and fly for 11 hours, move into a place with strangers, spend time with a best friend completely out of context to your relationship and are thrown by how different you actually are, and with those differences come uncertainty, you get given a manual car (when you wanted an automatic) drive for hours on the other side of the road, have you Sat Nav break and your phone die, you get lost and you join a class of strangers who all seem so intimidatingly good, and close and like family and you join the group and you go on stage and you cant seem to show case your personality because you have your guard up, a sensor on.

Dont show them who you really are in case they dont like that version.

instead you show them a mediocre, safe version of yourself and you step off stage and kick yourself as you go through all the things you could have said, should have said and you pray that next time you go up you will be 'you' and all of that soul searching and all of those books full of wisdom disappear and you become that effing 14 year old again.

You sit between this conundrum of knowing what makes sense, knowing who you are, being proud of who you have grown up to be. Your happy as larry at the self discovery and the courage you have had to come out and try new things. You are ecstatic to be included in such a group of talent and proud to be involved...

Against the extremity of feeling increasingly not good enough to be in class, to be in LA, to be chasing such a career. And then the knowing that all of that fear is just my Ego playing games with me. My Ego trying to make me believe those thoughts. Because I know I am enough. Wholeheartedly. Brene Brown would say. The aim is to lie in bed and say 

yes I am imperfect and afraid, but that doesn't change the truth that I am also brave and worthy of love and belonging. 

So how do you fight these demons? The ones that eat you up and make you think your crazy. The ones that make you talk way too much, divulge too much or say nothing at all, sit there quietly just smiling at everyone. The ones that make you ingratiate and eager to please or the ones that make you act all care free and nonchalant. The ones that make you stay seated and not to go up and perform 'vulnerability'

The only answer I think I have discovered is to be aware of those dark places and you call them out, you diminish the very thing your scared of. How can your Ego win if you accept it. What power does it have if you see it and you do your thing anyway?

All that kept me from going up was the voices that said, 'your not emotional enough, your not connected enough, your not free enough, your not nice enough, your not trained enough or smart enough or honest enough. Your not enough. And all I was asked to do was go up and share that. Share what I felt I was lacking. Love for myself. As our teacher said, all vulnerability is, is Love. It stems from love. And ultimately my biggest fear was that I didn't love myself enough to bare my soul to an audience of strangers who had bared their soul to me.

So next weeks class is going to be the time I don't let my Ego get the better of me. The time I stop worrying about what other people think and trusting that just being open and honest is good enough.

Brene Brown says to

Dare greatly

... and that is what I shall do. Eeeeeek!

It is apparent I am no longer a spring chicken anymore, which, as an actor, brings up this slight panic, slight carefree 'over it' kind of mentality. It's hard for anyone chasing such a extremely difficult dream... You go through such emotions. When you start out you have all the enthusiasm in the world. The industry is yours if you want it, anything seems possible. Your enthusiasm books you jobs and you think life could really be sweet. Things slow down a bit as the ten jobs out of eleven that you didn't get, start playing on your mind and you lose some confidence. You try your hardest to have a thick skin and not take anything personally... 'Was that take so horrendous that the casting director laughed as I walked out? Was I too fat to play the leads sister? Did I speak too mumbly, or not common enough? Was I tall enough, brown enough, skinny enough, interesting enough, plain enough... Was I enough? And you kick yourself for letting it get to you because you know for a fact, most of the time it's just because you just 'weren't right.' But you wait for the phone to ring even though you know a watched kettle will never boil, you play mind games with yourself and tell yourself 'I didn't even want the part anyways. You wanted to be free to audition for the dream job not slug away night after night for equity minimum in a part that quite frankly your not right for anyways... When really, of course you want that job. You always, always WANT the job. You want the credit, the experience, the contacts and as much as you tell yourself not to, you want the validation. 

Yeh yeh wouldn't it be great if we were all those actors that went into the room so nonchalant you would think they were just there to order pizza. The ones that don't learn their lines and sit back in the chair, relaxed, with no need to ingratiate themselves or appease anybody. They grunt answers back at the casting director and tells them he's not worked in a year because, well, he just wasn't 'feeling it' and we all think perhaps we could be that guy... So we pretend, in the lead up to the casting, we try not to learn the lines, we say things in the mirror like 'They want me to get the job, they need me, I am what they need for the job' and you try so hard to believe your little beaming face that you very nearly have a bolt of excitement. 'I am, in control of my destiny, life is good, this is just great to be auditioning'... 

Wait, is that excitement or do I need a poo from all the nerves.

You go in, you read, you did good. No wait, don't think you did good because whenever you think you did, you don't hear from them. So, without being negative, you try as positively as possible, to tell the universe that you really do not mind if you book this job or not. You SAY that, if not this one, the next will be something better. But our intention isn't there. Inside you're intention says, I need this job to take me out of this shitty existence of working for someone else and just about paying my rent. 

The phone doesn't ring for days and when it does and it's private number... Private number? Shit it's my agent, I booked the job, no no, tell yourself you have not booked the job, no no that's negative, think nothing, think NO thoughts, meditate, ummmmmmmmm... 

'Hello.' Easy breezy cool cat... 
'Hi I'm just calling from voderfone...' 

Aggggjhhhhhhhh fuck you Vodafone. I don't even have a contract with you... Hang up. You try not to cry from your own desperateness. You turn your phone on silent because you don't want to be listening for the call, but then you just keep looking at it angry when there's no action. You sometimes finally forget the call your waiting for. And on those gleeful moments life is bliss again. Normal. You go to class, see friends, talk for hours about how you love acting and want to immerse yourself in the world and when your not looking or waiting or thinking, the phone rings and you got a recall and life is so fabulously joyful... for thirty minutes and then the process starts all over again.

This insanity may not happen to every actor, it may not be everyones journey, but it was mine. I wholeheartidly admit, this was my mindset for a very long time... 

You have some fab spells of work and then some not so fab spells. Along the way you book a life changing lead only to be recast at the last minute because you, funnily enough (refer back to  second paragraph) weren't brown enough, young enough, funny enough... All of the above. Your devastated. Your life is over, you lose all confidence, any that you had left and you decide your going to become a life coach, or make knitted owls for a living, maybe you'll pack it all up and head to Thailand for a year or two. Maybe you will write a novel or become a yoga teacher. You will take yourself out of this rejection ridden world and just take care of you. You'll meditate, read self help books, focus on something worthwhile, the UN maybe.... Drop the dream of being Jolie or Watson and just settle with being a UN Joe Blogs with no starry eyed credentials. Perhaps you decide your old now, maybe you will get married and have kids and settle and perhaps... Wait, private number...

You have an audition for a lead for a series for a popular show... Life changing, and you no longer want kids, marriage (you will do that once you have this life changing job), Screw yoga, Thailand, owls, Joe blogs job at the UN... You want this job and you decide that that is OK. You drop the desperation because you have been at rock bottom. You've had no work for years. You survived. Life moved on and you did not keel over. You still had focus and purpose and you sort of strangely enough found yourself through all the neediness and despair. You feel free from it all. You still want it but you don't need it anymore and you think for a split second that perhaps you are now that cool nonchalant kid that doesn't mind if they book the job or not, what's meant to be is meant to be... Right? You have beaten the system, your obstacle, yourself. Ulrica moment in full force.

And then you're in the room and the casting directors are laughing and talking and you're in there for at least fifteen minutes, and you feel... This is possibly one of those moments. You're gleeful. The room likes what you did with the scene. The director gives you notes and you take them well. They nod and smile and you own it, your confident, your in it... Your present. You shake there hands and for another minute, perhaps minute and a half, you're on cloud nine... You say your goodbyes. You get up walk towards the door, close the door... You can't exactly remember what you said in there, or if it was authentic and truthful? You begin replaying the last fifteen minutes over and over and...

You walk into the waiting room and...'oh shit, there's Sally Meekings. The one that books everything...

Well great, thanks universe thank you very much. 

The time finally came, LA bound, all packed up, byes said, hugs and kisses galore. Two films, two gluten free plane meals, one four hour nap, five wees and one chapter of a new book down and we were there, in 30 degree heat, birks and fedora hats at the ready.

We had been waiting for this day for such a while, yet had had no time to think about it or even conceive what was happening as we had been so busy in the lead up... and here it was. Los Angeles in all it's glory.

First stop The Mondrian.

Now Bobbie would obviously not have a hair out of place, on her head let alone anywhere else, She would have waxed, shaved, bleached and all would be in order. Her skin would glow with the oily sun cream, her tan lines would be even, if there at all. Knowing Bobbie she would be all over one colour, somehow, without sunbathing naked. Her hair in a top not looking chic not pineapple and her costume would be simply plain, yet exactly the right shape for her perfect bod.

Then there was myself... stubbly pitts, frizzy pineaple hair, 3 different tan marks from the three ill fitted costumes, skin like clay from the 30 factor suncream that won't rub in and basically, I looked a dam right mess. But it's OK... it's just a pool for christ sake. Noone cares. Noone but myself.  And that is the biggest challenge of all.

I'm going to give a break down of my time in LA. The good the bad and the Ugly. Blogs are always filled with how great people's lives are. And through the eyes of Facebook and instagram they are. Of course, pretty and beautiful and full of hope. That's how life should be. The positive in all of it. But... and this is not a negative... but then there is real life. 

Yes I am in LA, yes it's sunny, opportunity is rife, there is cocktails and palm trees, beaches, shops galore, quaint coffee shops and as many veg juice shops as there are Starbucks (I've been in starbucks way more) life out here is insanely lovely, and I am grateful. But there wouldn't be anything worth reading if I really only gave you the good bits... 

I won't post crappy pics of palm trees galore, well, not all of the time, but I will post my daily pics exciting or not and I will write how I am feeling day to day. Mainly to document my time because there are only so many memories and feelings of memories or memories of feelings you can store.. so this is my time in LA... my journey in blog format.