My recent adventures in San Francisco have me thinking a lot about my future. It's always on the tip of my brain, of course, but spending two weeks as an artist and not working a day job has caused me to deeply ponder the future of my career.
It's scary business. I am thrilled to be doing the work that I'm doing, whether it's creating performance pieces about body image or fame, teaching strangers how to suck cock, writing about my sex life for the public to enjoy, or simply taking my clothes off on stage. I am proud of what I do and I have no regrets. But I'm still terrified that one day I'll want to catch myself longing for the main stage once again and have to struggle to keep my dirty history under wraps.
But is it really worth it? Is it worth pondering all of these 'what if' scenarios when they may not even have any relevance at all in your life? Is it worth holding off on all of these things that I want to pursue because somebody else that I've never met may have a problem with it years down the line? I've spent so much of my life worrying about these things, and I've reached a point where I'm just about ready to kick them all to the curb.
I want to go off the deep end. I want to get a tattoo. I want to do more nude modeling. I want to go-go dance on a regular basis. I want to become a staple of the burlesque community. I want to stop worrying about who sees my naked butt. I want to live the sex-positive, body-positive lifestyle that I feel like I've been hiding from, more or less, for the last five years of my life.
I've only got one life to live, and I'm tired of restraining my sense of self-expression to please a handful of people that I may or may not work with in the future. I see other actors, constantly trying to maintain their squeaky clean public image, and while that may make them more marketable, that is not the way I want to live my life. I suppose the only way I can truly make myself happy in this case is to pursue all of the things I want to do in my life, worry about the obstacles when they arise, and until that point, pretend they aren't there. If I don't act like I'm afraid of something, who's going to know I'm afraid?