He's Just Not That Into You

Last week there was an audition for High School Musical running at a prestigious regional theater not far from New York. This should be a perfect show for me, as I have a young and perky look (though I had been typed out for the tour before).

Auditions are infrequent this time of summer, and as I walked into a studio I hadn't been in a while, I got so depressed. I had been talking to a friend who was debating leaving an unhappy relationship - she was trying much harder than him to make it work. As I took the slow elevator up to the audition, I felt the same way.

The phrase 'he's just not that into you' flashed into my mind. I've never read that book, as I haven't been single and in need of dating advice for a while, but it seemed a perfect analogy for my relationship with dance. I have been trying so hard. I have been giving so much love. And it just doesn't want me.

I keep thinking maybe if I change, take more voice lessons, cut my hair, get a boob job, something, it will want me. What am I doing wrong, I keep asking myself. But maybe it's not me, it's them, this irrational, nonsensical industry.

I remember the good times, the ecstasy of performing like the addictive sex of a abusive relationship. The audition combo was bouncy cheer hop, like I used to do in high school, driving the point home. I used to love it so much. And it loved me back. I always had opportunities to perform, and I thrived.

But even then, as a glimpse at my despairing teenage journals will attest, it was fraught. I never felt good enough, skinny enough. It was never easy.

So why don't I do what I advised my friend, and walk away? There's got to be something else out there for me. A career that appreciates all I have to give and lets me work.

Of course the analogy isn't precise. Perhaps I am being overdramatic. But, as I rack up another rejection without understanding why, something to ponder.