Between Terrifying and Exciting: The Stage is Ours

There was a time when I made myself small.

Not because I wanted to be - but because the world seemed to ask it of me.

To stay quiet.

To be agreeable.

To take up less space than I actually needed to thrive.

But I’m not that version of myself anymore.

Lately, I’ve felt the ground shift beneath me. Not in a chaotic, unraveling way—but like something new is blooming through the cracks. A life more aligned with who I am and what I love is taking shape, and for the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m not just witnessing that transformation - I’m actively choosing it.

This week is full of events, yes - but more than that, it’s full of affirmations.

I start my training for art camp, where I’ll be teaching young creators through the Big Buddy program. That’s not just a class. It’s a full-circle moment. I remember being that kid - quiet, full of ideas, unsure where I fit. And now I get to help create space for others to feel seen and powerful through art.

On Friday night, I’ll be stepping on stage with my improv team, Something Else. It’s raw, unscripted, vulnerable - and deeply freeing. There’s no hiding in improv. There’s just you, your scene partners, and the courage to say “yes” to whatever comes next.

Saturday, I return to one of my favorite places: behind the table at the Magical Spring Market, surrounded by handmade beauty, crafted spells, and creative kinship. It feels like coming home.

And on Thursday, a particularly haunting episode of Tongue of the Serpent premieres - the one with Madame Delphine Lalaurie. It’s dark. It’s uncomfortable. But it’s important. Storytelling is my alchemy. Through these episodes, I don’t just tell ghost stories - I dig into the bones of power, pain, history, and the echoes we carry.

Even more thrilling? My theater team has just been accepted into the Lafayette Theater Festival. And I want to scream it from the rooftops. Not because I need applause, but because this is a dream I thought I’d given up on. And here it is. Still possible. Still mine.

I used to think I didn’t need the spotlight.

And that’s true. I don’t.

But I do need the stage.

I need to create. I need to be seen. I need to tell stories that feel like exorcisms and lullabies at once.

After years of shrinking myself and making myself small, it feels amazing to no longer be on the sidelines.

Let’s swing for the fences.

Let’s grab the brass ring.

Let’s walk the tightrope between terrifying and exciting.

I love you, and I believe in us.

Thanks for walking this wild road with me. We’re not done becoming.