I’m at a week long storytelling workshop full of middle age women who are teachers mostly, and want to learn storytelling to make their students more engaged.
So I just accidentally a lesbian comedy show this morning! I did real well with my improv but I felt afterwards during the analysis that I was no longer wanted in the room, and that is such a horrible experience after a good performance.
I think the little old ladies thought I wasn’t committing myself to it, or that I was somehow “degrading” the experience for them. But I was asked to make a show that connects with me on a personal level. And I didn’t want to perform as a man (there was a script to stick to) and I suppose I am a comedienne on and off the stage (which btw is scary hard, way harder than woe-is-me tragedy) so I was true to myself. And got rejected for it. I still feel like some repulsive thing the cat dragged in.
But I still do feel kinda good about myself. Well done, me! *pat on the back*
So I was at this oral storytelling workshop this morning.
Teacher: “There is no wrong way to do this exercise.”
After hearing what I did,
Teacher: “That is not how you do this exercise.”
wear your armor
whether it’s makeup, a band tshirt, your fandom pins, tattoos, jewelry, your favorite ripped pair of jeans, or something no one else can touch or see like your favorite song repeating like a mantra in your head, the sound of your own heartbeat, or the knowledge that you were brave enough to get out of bed today when everything else inside you said “no”
wear your armor and kick ass