For most of my childhood I wanted to be one and only one thing: a Movie Star. And let me clarify this by saying I didn't just want to be an actress. No, no, I had my eyes on the real prize. Movie. Star. You know, as in being so famous that everyone in the world would know you, and want to take your picture or get your autograph. I always believed as a child that I would grow up and be that movie star.
So, from the age of 4 onward, I would literally practice my movie star pose. And it made a regular appearance in candid photos taken by my mom. See for yourself...
That is me in 1971, at age five, giving my well-worn-over-the-shoulder-movie-star pose for mom's ever-present Kodak instamatic camera. In my left hand, a cup of juice, as all movie stars of the day would drink, I'm sure; and in my right hand, a pair of sunglasses--removed only for this Kodak moment because, after all, a movie star needs to retain some modicum of anonymity. Ahem.
All through my childhood, I would be the one wanting to put on shows or plays, either at school or at home, in my ongoing attempt to finely hone my acting chops. After all, one can't be a Movie Star if one cannot act! I adored the spotlight, and the applause, which I would get even when my acting sucked (and it often did) because I was--if nothing else--oh so cute.
My movie star dreams lasted well into my teen years, at which time I also began practicing my movie star autograph. Because really, if you're gonna be a movie star, you have to have a cool signature that you can scribble in a hurry when clamoring fans ask for your autograph. I worked hard perfecting mine, making sure it was very loopy and fun, and worthy of a famous movie star. And in fact, the signature I use on checks or other documents to this day is based on my well-practiced movie star autograph from my adolescence.
But alas, my dreams of movie stardom never did materialize. At some point they just became a fond memory from my childhood. Instead I became an art teacher. Luckily, I was able to keep using my autograph skills to sign hall passes and such while I was teaching. And I still had my share of the spotlight--even if it was for a classroom full of students. But the movie star pose disappeared about the same time I began to hate having my photo taken. So it is no more.
Am I sorry that I grew up and out of my movie star dreams? Not really. I look back with fondness at that little girl with big dreams. It's a part of who I was, even if it's not who I became. And I wouldn't trade that for anything.
I'm linking up this post to Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop for this week.
