They didn’t look away, your friends, they didn’t cringe, not one of them. They didn’t look away, you looked away. You didn’t trust them, you looked away from them.
-Lexie Grey, Grey’s Anatomy 5.18
If this blog isn’t vulnerable, it’s nothing. I’m so rarely vulnerable sometimes I forget what my speaking voice sounds like when I see my emotions seep out. I forget the cracks in my voice. I was going to say, “when I let emotions get the best of me”, but then I realized that is what got me into this problem in the first place. The fact that I so often equate showing emotion in my personal life with weakness. In the audition room, I hear the vulnerability come out that I so often hide from. In the audition room, I can find beauty in the tears.
Most of my life so far was spent trying to prove that being a little person wasn’t a stigma. While I have come to believe that now, the repurcussions of that meant that I tried to convince the world that I was fine, all the time. Every tv interview I gave, it was my sole goal to prove to the audience that I was acceptable and dignified. I have come to realize this flaw in myself and am growing into a person who is much more comfortable letting you see my vulnerability.
Not every day do I love being small. But the days I don’t, I am learning to let people in–to share in it. I looked away from my friends, expecting them to cringe. I blamed them so often–felt they should have seen my struggle–yet I was too closed off to allow them to. I felt that if they saw the days I struggled when boys didn’t see me as more than friend material that they would secretly gloat that they weren’t small. But the fact was, I was connecting all the wrong dots in the wrong order. Half the time, it wasn’t the fact I was small, it was something else. And nobody was gloating. It was my fault, I didn’t let them in. That was the big chip on my shoulder–my inability to be vulnerable. I am slowly chipping away at it and I’m coming to be proud of my imperfections.