Sometimes you have to kiss your insecurities goodbye

Sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do – whether you really want to or not.

When I… Sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do – whether you really want to or not.

When I finally landed the lead role in the high school play my junior year, I knew it was finally my time to shine. No one at school really cared about the fact that I, as captain, led the Reading Team to three consecutive first-place trophies. The play was going to get me that star status for which I had been yearning, and might I add, highly deserved.

The play was a comedy, a spoof on “Romeo and Juliet,” and I had the coveted role of Juliet. In this case, this meant a greatly exaggerated southern drawl, y’all, attitude and, most importantly, a spectacular drawn out death scene to wrap things up.

It also meant an onstage kiss with my Romeo. Unfortunately, my Romeo was also a bit of a spoof on the traditional Romeo. In fact, he might have been the biggest nerd in school. I mean, he was lucky if he weighed a buck five soaking wet, and he was tall, with big glasses and an awkward laugh.

Somehow, I lucked out and we never practiced the kiss during rehearsal. When the weekend of our debut rolled around, I had so much adrenaline pumping in front of the audience that I barely even noticed our kisses. My focus was more on my fabulous death scene when I got to stab myself in the gut with a fake sword and crawl across the stage screaming and moaning for a good five minutes. I received a standing ovation after each time I finally died.

When the weekend of performances came to an end, everyone was bummed. The show had been great, drawing in record crowds of family and friends. Naturally, not many of our classmates came to see it, but we didn’t mind. We considered it a success.

Then our principal approached our director about performing the play during an assembly of our entire school. Here was our chance to perform it one last time. Everyone was excited. Everyone, that is, except for me.

Whoa, wait. Time out. You mean I have to kiss the dorkiest boy in the entire school in front of the entire school? I was mortified.

Suddenly, my entire outlook on the play shifted. I no longer cared about the rush I got during the applause following my death scene, instead all I could think about were the two seconds that my lips touched the dork’s and the repercussions that would follow in the hallways and classrooms.

When our director asked how we felt about performing for the school, everyone voted yes except for me. I then proceeded to point out to my fellow actors and actresses just how much we could get picked on for our actions in the play. I laid everyone’s insecurities out on the table and tried to make each of them feel as vulnerable as I did. But it didn’t work. I still was outvoted, and the show went on.

I psyched myself up as much as I could and did my best to pretend the audience wasn’t made up solely of my peers, and ultimately, I had a great time showing off our hard work for one last performance. And guess what? No one was talking about the onstage kiss afterwards. The buzz was all about my magnificent death scene.

Sometimes sacrifices must be made for the greater good, often garnering a positive result that wouldn’t have been possible otherwise. I can’t believe I almost forfeited the chance to demonstrate what I was capable of just to save face. In the grand scheme of things, one little peck certainly wasn’t worth the drama I afforded it.

The fact that I had to pull in everyone else’s insecurities highlighted just how insecure I was about myself. I may have thought I was strong in my lead role, but it was really everyone else supporting me that allowed me to let loose and not hold back. Without that support, I never would have received the Best Actress Award that year, nor would my crush have approached me and told me how wonderful I had done in the play. Nor would I have been approached by Stephen Spielberg to star in his next blockbuster hit – which I politely declined.

Sometimes, regardless of who you have to kiss, or how many times you have to die, the show must go on.

Suck it up and pucker up. E-mail Jessica at jrp32@pitt.edu.