Growing pains of a spoiled little twat.

This year has been fantastic. And it has been horrible. It has been fantastic largely because of how horrible it has been. This year I have found out in a million different ways that it is only in hardship and adverse circumstances one can find opportunities to grow.

This year I have encountered rejection, bankrupcy, family feuds, death, you name it. This year I have survived all that. And I have come out stronger. I believe that this year I have finally started growing up, for lack of a better term.

I have started writing again. It had been more than ten years since I wrote anything worth mentioning. These last few months I have written almost an hour's worth of stage material that I have tried out at open mics. (Of which about 10 minutes survived.) And then there's this blog. It may not be much, but it has been very helpful to me.

This year, after losing out on a part in a tv show that I had put all my hopes on, and after watching my bar go bankrupt, I swallowed my pride, dusted myself off, wrote a few bits and climbed on stage. That is the toughest thing I have ever had to do. (I have had a very smooth ride of a life so far. I know that. I know I am a spoiled brat. That makes this kind of challenge the kind I have to surmount.) It has taken me 12 years from graduating theatre school to climbing back on stage on my own. That's a lot of wasted time. On the other hand, that's how long it took me. No one ever taught me how to gather up courage for something. No one ever taught me how to stop letting fantasies of success get in the way of achieving small victories. No one ever taught me how to swallow my pride. No one ever taught me how to get over myself, and my fucking sense of fucking entitlement.

So here I am, spoiled little forty year old brat, complaining about how hard life is for a little prince like me.

It's hard for anyone to turn their life around. In a few ways, this year, I have. That makes me feel proud. And I never realised how different pride in an accomplishment feels from the kind of pride that comes from a sense of entitlement and being a spoiled little shit.

Here's to next year. Here's to growing the fuck up.