Yes, it's true--whip out the Kleenex (or the generic 99¢ version of it...just not Puffs--anything but Puffs). I was born with a disability--the shame and embarrassment of which have prevented me from discussing this with any of my friends. But who am I fooling? I'm sure many of you have already made judgments or assumptions; after all, it's not like I'm very good at hiding it.
Maybe acknowledging it is the first step on a long road to overcoming this life-threatening affliction of mine. I think I'm finally ready to come out and say it.
Okay then, here goes. *exhale* I suffer from...........(shyness).
Oh God, I can't believe I just said that...I mean, I have a hard time saying anything without turning beet red and then fleeing like a frantic wildebeest. I guess I'm getting better already.
For those of you who aren't familiar with this donation-worthy disease, shyness is a disorder that renders its victims utterly useless in social situations--something not to be taken lightly. You've probably spotted a shy person or two hundred in your life--the little boy in a fetal position in the corner of the classroom...the girl eating lunch under the lunch table...the guy who chokes on his own spit when attempting to ask out the girl of his dreams...the fully grown woman spinning in circles singing lullabies to her shoes...actually, that last one was me, and I suppose that behavior in particular can actually be attributed to the fact that I'm a teeny bit mentally unstable--another problem in need of your charity. Hey, it's expensive popping all these pills!
But back to the issue at hand. The adverse effects of this condition are both mental and physical. And what's worse, shyness is often a package deal with two other serious illnesses: nervousness and awkwardness. In addition to the emotional stress of constantly dealing with self-doubt, I can't tell you how much I struggle with the humiliating physical manifestations of these nasty afflictions: sweaty palms, squeaky voice, stomachaches, overactive bladder, uncontrollable bodily noises, and gas.
So there you have it folks, a triple whammy. If that doesn't cause your wallet to involuntarily whip open then I don't know what will.
But seriously--your pity is greatly appreciated. Cash donations may be sent to my home address. Food is also accepted.
Look. I know what you're thinking--a shy actor? Isn't that an oxymoron? What was I thinking entering into a business where you're emotionally (and sometimes literally) naked in front of the camera?
Well actually, though they may be few and far between, shy actors do exist. What usually happens to 99% of people like me is that their inner performer lays dormant inside of them until a camera is pointed their way and suddenly they come alive in a magnificent, Oscar-worthy display.
The other one percent? Well, that's occupied by little old me, breaker of molds. I suppose if a video camera were pointed my way for an actual shoot the above might be true. But it's been so long since I've gotten any cinematographic action that I've forgotten what that feels like.
Auditions just aren't the same. I find it hard to completely let go and sob my snot out over my drug-dealing husband T.J.'s lifeless, invisible body on the dirty, carpeted floor of a casting studio. Can't we just skip that process altogether? I'm a fairly decent psuedo-artist--you can take my word for it, I swear.
And even before I get in front of an audition room camera, there's another camera I have to survive--a headshot photographer's. Due to the lack of responses I receive when submitting for auditions, I think it's safe to assume I don't fare very well in photographic situations. After all, the key to taking the perfect picture is to be the opposite of shy.
Here's someone you might recognize. It's what I normally look like when a camera is pointed my way:
Presenting the Diana we all know and love (or at least don't hate for 67% of the time). The bumbling, insecure f*ck-up who whiles away her time eating Cheez-It Snack Mix and mangoes and bumping into tables.
A stark contrast to what I should look like (or a sad attempt at it anyway) whenever a photo is snapped:
The above are intended to be representative of a person who is oozing self-assurance and has her act together. However, since I have no experience in those fields, I drew inspiration from girls on Facebook who post daily vanity shots of themselves. Because who's more confident than someone who needs constant reassurance that her t*ts are perky and her booty's bangin'?
*brain gears working*..............................Oh. So maybe I didn't exactly choose the best role models....
At any rate, if I want to go anywhere in this field, I need to get over my fear of cameras. They're like pesky hurdles I need to jump over to get to the finish line...and unfortunately, my legs aren't very long.
But being camera shy only stems from my overall social impairment. So why exactly am I so f*cking shy, anyway?? My best guess is years of public embarrassment. After spending most of my developmental years looking like Cousin Itt and peeing in my pants, I learned to keep my mouth shut. I guess that would make the part of my brain that deals with confidence underdeveloped, which qualifies as a disorder--and dammit, there should be a walkathon for people like me.
But in all seriousness, no amount of walking or cash and food donations (still accepting), can help me. I'm waging a war against myself and so far, I'm losing--or, um, most of me is losing while the shy part is winning, that is. And if shyness doesn't equal victory in the real world, I'm certainly not going to let it take over my body and mind (the aliens have already done that).
Let's face it--being shy sucks. I'll never be the girl dancing free of care in the club, networking up a storm at that mixer or engaging in direct eye contact (eek!). However, certain things just have to change if I don't want to end up penniless on the streets--or crashing on your couch (I swear I don't wet the bed anymore). The next time I don't get a part, it'd better be because I make a total fool of myself giving it my all instead of making a total fool of myself holding it all back.
I'm long overdue for a software update, so I think I'll finally install some confidence and restart myself before it's too late. First step? Jumping over the headshot hurdle, which could possibly lead to jumping over the audition hurdle which could possibly mean crossing the paying gig line! (Gosh, I'd better do some stretching...) Here's to hoping my new headshots scream 'choose me!', 'i believe in myself!' and 'i am so not desperate right now!' instead of portraying me as a frightened peasant woman, as they usually do.
Hope all your career endeavors are going swimmingly! (All two of you, that is.) :)
