My Secret Cure to Shyness; and My Obsession with Theater

Have you ever made a wish on a birthday candle? The homemade cake sits on the table as friends and family joyously sing as the candle slowly burns, illuminating whatever decorations are on the cake. What did you wish for? True love? A new bike? World peace? Did you ever have a wish you so desperately wanted to come true that you wished for it many times?

From elementary school to the first few years of high school, I had the same wish. Every birthday, shooting star, dandelion, and eyelash on my cheek, I always wished for the same thing. I would close my eyes tight and wish as hard as I could for the one thing I wanted more than anything.

I wanted to be less shy.

I struggled with my shyness for years, always hating that I wasn’t strong enough to change. I would actively avoid any chance meetings with acquaintances or peers, terrified of having to talk to them. I wasn’t able to order food for myself at restaurants, having to tell my parents my order for them to relay the information when the server came. I couldn’t even look them in the eyes without anxiety rising in my throat. I never tried out for sports or joined clubs. I didn’t have many friends. Even times I found myself surrounded by people my age, I would feel a swirling pool of fear and anxiety as I tried to push myself to just say “hi” to the person next to me.

There were times I would get the courage to greet someone, and I would be ecstatic for the rest of the day. I would go to my parents and tell them “Guys, I talked to someone today. I did it.”, and they would be genuinely happy for me. Proud that their little wallflower had the courage to say “hi” to a stranger.

Long story short, it was bad. My shyness was so bad that it heavily impacted my emotional stability and wellbeing. Something needed to change, but I simply didn’t have the courage.

On a different topic, my parents were both actors before they had my brother and I. They met on stage and my father even worked as a professional in Hollywood. So, when he had the opportunity to be on stage again, with the local Shakespearian company, he kinda dragged me along.

I didn’t start on stage, I wasn’t brave enough to go through the audition process, but I started backstage as a stagehand. Honestly, that may have been worse. Having lines and blocking was a bit more comfortable than having to talk to actors backstage. For me, at least.

I remember one specific instance when the stage manager told me to let the actors know it was ten minutes to curtain. This meant I had to go backstage, get the attention of the whole cast, and talk to them as they all looked at me. Hell no. But, I’m a pushover so I scurried backstage and stared at the actors as they got ready, trying to force myself to speak up.

One of the actors saw me struggling and came up to me. Her name was Bobby, and she was an incredible actress. She was also a very nice woman, approachable and kind. I really liked her, so I felt a little more comfortable talking to her when she asked me what was wrong. I told her I needed to announce ‘ten minutes’. She smiled at me and told me “I got you”.

She turned to the cast and yelled out, “Hey guys.” The cast turned at stared at her (not me, thank God). She then gestured to me and said, “Olivia has something to say…”

Traitor.

All eyes turned to me, and I felt smaller than ever. My breath caught in my throat as I looked back at the seven, or so, pairs of eyes. I muttered “Ten minutes to curtain.” which got a chorus of “Thank you, ten.”, and everyone went back to whatever they were doing. I, on the other hand, was reeling, adrenaline rushing through my veins. I think I may have thanked her, for what painful help she gave.

That was the beginning of a long, though not too painful, journey. A director needed more bodies on stage, so my first play was one I didn’t audition for. It was kind of like the ‘free drug sample’ people say dealers give you in order to get you hooked so you’ll pay for more. After that first show, I was so hooked on being on stage I braved auditions for the chance to do it again.

From there it was all downhill. I always joke that you are not allowed to be shy in theater, and I truly believe it. Constantly talking to outgoing people, making art onstage with like minded people, and standing in front of an audience to show off my hard work; it knocked the shy out of me really quick.

I really noticed the difference when ordering food first. Remember, I couldn’t even look the server in the eye before. After a few theater seasons, I was able to order for myself. Instead of sitting on pins and needles trying to force myself to greet a stranger, I was making new friends at school and work, laughing and joking like it was natural. It was shocking how much I had changed. It took a few years, and it wasn’t always comfortable, but my life is better now.

Acting really gave me a life. It kicked me of my worst weakness, let me meet amazing people, and allowed me to express myself with a slowly budding artistic skill. I don’t know where I would be without getting into theater. I don’t think I would be happy. I’d still be painfully shy. Many of the friends I have now would not be in my life. I probably wouldn’t have finished college. I wouldn’t have the immense love and passion for Shakespeare. I feel comfortable in saying that theater saved my life

When I was younger, I was using every excuse I could think of to wish for a miracle. I guess I got it. I think back to the time that actress put me on the spot. Back then, I was pissed. Now, I think it’s hilarious. I’m also glad that she, and everyone I met on my way, helped me change for the better. It was a gift more precious than I could possibly explain.

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