Naive and Idealistic
In high school, I appeared confident, but beneath the surface, I was a shy, well-behaved kid with big dreams – naive and idealistic. Thank goodness I’ve managed to hold onto that idealism throughout the years!
I began working with a renowned acting teacher in Bucharest. Her reputation preceded her, and I adored her classes. I felt myself growing, learning, and improving with each session. But something unexpected happened: we became close. She was a lonely soul, and I became the eager audience for her scattered dreams.
Before I knew it, I’d become her friend, confidant, and even surrogate daughter. It was overwhelming, especially considering her teaching method – shared by many others – involved stripping away your personality to rebuild a new version of you. Essentially, they were projecting their own issues onto us.
And there I was, a starry-eyed kid believing it was all right. It had to be, right? “You’re too young to understand the world,” they’d say. My worldview wasn’t quite right, and my body? Definitely not right.
As an aspiring actress, I was told I needed long hair, a thinner frame, and an air of innocence – the quintessential Juliet from Shakespeare’s classic. While my teacher did incorporate some of my experiences she deemed interesting, forcing me into Juliet’s shoes was a far cry from who I truly was and not the right path for me.
Young and Rebellious
In my youth, I was a bit wild – partying hard and, in what I now recognize as a protest against my acting teacher’s expectations, I shaved my head and dyed it bright red just months before admission. I was fed up with playing the ‘nice girl’, the ‘good girl who has to listen to get the part’. This was my rebellion.
I vividly recall the moment she first saw me like this. I was waiting in the vast university lobby, sporting my bold red head, large black hoop earrings, and a black flared retro jacket I’d picked up in London that year.
I felt like myself again. I felt GORGEOUS!
It was late, and the lobby was nearly deserted. The elevator light blinked, and the doors slid open. She was looking down as she stepped out, then slowly raised her gaze. When our eyes met, her large blue ones widened dramatically. She gasped, initially frightened, but in a flash, that fright morphed into anger.
Suddenly, I felt a twinge of fear. I clearly hadn’t considered the consequences. At 19, it had seemed like a fun thing to do, but faced with her angry glare, doubts flooded in. What if she refused to work with me? What if I wasn’t good enough? What if I’d made a mistake? What if my hair wasn’t right? I was definitely no Juliet now!
We walked to class in a silence so complete it was terrifying. She wouldn’t even look at me. The moment we stepped inside, she abruptly demanded to know why I’d done it, as if I’d committed some horrible crime. “It feels good,” I replied. She paused, then said, “Well, we still have time and it will grow. Please don’t shave it again…”
Turning Into Somebody You Are Simply Not
I’ve never shaved my head since then. 😊 But something peculiar happened during that time, and only now do I understand why I felt like I didn’t belong for so many years. At 14, I tattooed the essence of ‘free spirit’ on my back – a symbol of not being owned by society or anyone. It was pure instinct, and I’m truly grateful to my 14-year-old self for feeling this way. She was so raw and idealistic. I couldn’t fit into norms, boring clothes 😄, or that ‘good girl’ role everyone expected of me. So please, don’t make me wear a boring dress! Yet, I wanted success so badly that I followed her lead precisely…
I definitely looked older in that dress, and she kept insisting I had to look “decent.” Why should I look decent? Because I’d shaved my head? By the way, my hair was already longer by then… quite “decent,” I’d say! 😄
I felt awful. Why do some people try so hard to turn you into their little “alter-ego”? Parents, partners, teachers, mentors…
Why do they feel such a desperate need to leave their mark and force their values upon you? Why can’t they let you be YOU, explore that, and help you become that authentic person? To guide you in showing your true colors? There are some excellent people in our lives who are genuinely right for us, but we both know some aren’t. I’m sure we’ve both experienced similar things, especially when we were young. Those are the most fragile moments.
I failed the second time too, right at the end of the competition. I knew I was going to fail the moment I walked out – actually, the moment I walked in – because I wasn’t feeling like MYSELF. I wasn’t wearing my style, my personality was crushed, and I felt manipulated. I clearly lacked the maturity and knowledge to handle everything. I felt terrible and realized that instead of building my confidence, the teacher had chipped away at my personality, eliminating what little trust I had left, leaving me hanging.
I was utterly miserable, crying for a week straight. I truly didn’t want to hear anything from her. I felt so wronged in many ways because I was confident in my skills and personality, but I’d just gone along… her way, not mine. My instincts were screaming that something wasn’t right, so I only blame myself for this. But it was definitely a life lesson, a powerful one.
You Never Give Up
One of the best private Drama Universities was holding admissions just a week later. At first, I really didn’t want to go, but I wasn’t about to wait another year for another chance. At that point, I had nothing to lose.
Some of Romania’s greatest film and theater personalities taught there, and one true legend was taking a class that very year. So, I changed my repertoire, bought a purple flared dress, and went there as MYSELF! I danced, laughed, and played with them – I was a burst of energy and felt it through every pore! I got in, and they even applauded my exam!
I felt that pure, electrifying happiness. Joy at finally being myself again and feeling good about it! I didn’t want to be Juliet. Meryl Streep was no Juliet, if you think about it. But there’s something profoundly wrong in our system, in the way we’re often forced into boxes and norms, expected to look and act a certain way.
