Being Fabulous.

I’m at McDonald’s eating an Egg McMuffin. It tastes great; a bit different, of course. I think it is the cheese. Or the bacon.  Or maybe the English Muffin. Or…I dunno. Nonetheless, I’m eating an Egg McMuffin and sipping my coffee and to my right is a little girl who keeps staring at me. She is six, perhaps. With her haircut and big brown eyes, she reminds me of a Czech version of Dora the Explorer. On her first go-round, she stared hard, not quickly turning away as I raised my eyebrow (as I do), or even when I winked at her, (as I often do). This is my silent kidspeak for, “Ok, kid. What’re ya gonna do? You’re not an adult, so I’m givin’ you a pass on the stare, but I’m gonna need you to make a move.” She made a move: She smiled.

Just before our staring encounter, I’d been chewing and thinking about something important. And that is, am I still fabulous? Rather, am I still going to be fabulous?

Yesterday evening, while messengering with my LA buddies about Da’ Bears and how I will miss them this football season, one commented on how they’d miss me while I was out taking over the world. Someone else has said as much before. I wanted to whisper through the internet as though it were an old wall phone from the ‘40s, “Pssst, I’m oooonly teaching English right now!”

But then, yesterday afternoon, I had an interview with a preschool for a position and the teacher mentioned that in some schools, I may be the first contact some kids would have with a native English speaker. I’m not gonna lie; I got goosebumps and a little giddy.

Right after that interview, I had my first Business English lesson with some investment bankers. While I worked in investments in Chicago and Milwaukee for six years and left that world for my fabulous entertainment career, I’m not gonna lie, I was super giddy and skippy to be in a swanky office with polished chrome door handles, carpeted floors, hushed speaking tones and people in suits!

Then, yesterday night, before I went to bed, my brother just happened to send me an email titled, “Home Love”. It was a photo of my vision board.

Here’s the thing:

All these great things are happening, but I’m struggling with letting go of the idea, the picture, The Vision Board Image of the woman I thought I was going to be and have been striving to become for the past 18 years. That is:

The fabulous Oscar-winning woman in heels that walks the red carpet, does interviews, takes meetings and lives in a nice home and drives a nice car and wears amazing clothes and shoes and has a fabulous, handsome husband and a cute kid.

I truly want to be faaaaabulous, but I no longer think I’m going to be….exactly that. (And I’d like to take over the world, I really would. Kinda.) The Vision Board Woman is slipping away. It has been so long of trying to be the sought-after producer, the award-winning script writer, the hottest actress, the a-mazing dancer, etc. At this point, either the method in which I try to be fabulous has to change, or the picture needs to be erased, like a white board.

So, I’m floating in an interesting sea right now. I’d like to catch onto the right boat…in some ways, actually, it feels like I’m treading water and a piece of driftwood, a canoe and a yacht are coming my way and I have to position myself to catch onto the right vessel to carry me to the next port. Somehow, teaching English, or this time in my life really, is going to be the line that tows me in.

Pssst. You know what? I looked at the picture of my vision board again before I went to bed. And while in the past, it was almost a source of anxiety, a reminder of the things I hadn’t done or a big, red, blinking warning light blaring: Do more! Work HARDER! Meet MORE people! Write MORE! Produce MORE…this time, it was just a collage picture of the woman I already am. The woman who adores nice clothes. The woman who loves love and family and friends. The woman who enjoys nice surroundings and a nice, clean home. The woman who likes to travel. The woman who has a career and is successful. Me. Now. I urge you to look at your vision board and do the same.

That little girl is smiling at me again. I think she sees me for who I am. Kids are pretty cool that way. I winked back at her and returned her smile. As I finished my coffee, I thought, “Yes, sister. I am fabulous. Thank you for the reminder!”

Editor’s Note:

I think everyone should write a blog about your self journey and then write a post about how you don’t feel exactly fabulous and then insert photos of yourself looking fabulous and then sort of honestly realize that you already *were* fabulous. (LA just hadn’t noticed, yet. I don’t like to swear too much but I think it is time to say F*ck “LA”?) Carry on.