Why I Didn't Report

Why I didn't report:

(Trigger warning)

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First of all, I have no proof of the majority of the events on this list. That's a pretty strong deterrent.

I won't explain all of the things that have happened. Some of them are still too upsetting to think about. I'm not ready.

1. He was gay, so I didn't think it counted as assault.

2. He was my boyfriend.

3. I was friends with his girlfriend. I punched him in the face. I guess I thought that was enough. 4. I was a month into grad school and I didn't want to cause a problem. By the time I finally did report (after many incidents -- and by which point, I was terrified of him), I was asked to file a formal complaint with the university, and take him to some sort of hearing. I refused, crying, because I was so sure that he would try to kill me. (He did eventually get kicked out of grad school, but not for all of the things he did to me: he got kicked out for using the c-word in front of a donor to the school.)

5. He was my friend, and he was drunk. I left him stranded at the bar where he was without a ride home... and I felt so guilty about it that I called and apologized.

6. A professor witnessed what was happening and stopped it. I was mortified and celebrating someone coming to my defense simultaneously in my mind.

7. I tried to report it to a female stage manager. She laughed. (I was not Equity at the time, so had no Deputy or union to report it to.)

8. He was a stranger who approached me from behind, and I never got a good look at him.

9. He was my boyfriend

10. He was a stranger.

11. He was my boyfriend.

12. It was a stranger. It was in public, in daylight, in front of my boyfriend, who did nothing to help or

stop him. I was so shocked that I didn't do much either, although I was able to stop it from happening and the guy ran away. And by the time I thought about doing something (which, honestly, wasn't until a few days later when I worked up the courage to tell my parents why I'd been crying), there was no way to track him down in NYC.

13. It was at my job on a tv show. I reported it to a union rep. I was told "well, we're his union, too, so we have to protect him as much as we have to protect you. If you want, you can sue Sony Pictures..." (Spoiler alert: I did not sue Sony Pictures.)

14. I forgot about it for a full year (to the week) after it happened, until a friend posted about a similar event on her facebook wall. It was so, so awful that I guess I blocked it out of my mind. What's strange is how clearly the memory came back after that year. And I realized then just how horrific it was. I recently realized I'm still facebook friends with one of the men. I didn't delete him, because I feel like I have some sort of responsibility to other women to keep tabs on him.

15. I forgot about it until yesterday, when I read another woman's "why I didn't report" list, and it came flooding back. At the time, I didn't even confront him about it. He was staying with me at the time. It happened while I was sleeping (or while he thought I was sleeping). I felt so badly for him and excused his behavior because of everything he'd been going through... I remember telling a mutual friend what had happened, and she told me, "Yeah, he did the same thing to me a few years ago."

16. It was a first date. He very forcefully started making out with me against my will. He seemed like a nice guy who just misread the situation. He kept writing to me for months, and I liked him, but I just couldn't see him again after that.

17. It was a first date. We spent four hours together. I drove him to his apartment, because he had walked to the date. After I told him I didn't want to kiss him (because I was trying to draw boundaries after the last one), he grabbed me by the back of the head and very forcefully started making out with me. I was terrified that he might rape or kill me, and I just froze. We were at his place. I managed to get away from him. When I got home and told my male roommate what had happened, he said, "What a baller move!" The guy texted me the next day wanting to go out again. I deleted the dating app and blocked his number.

18. It was a second date. It took me weeks to process just how badly things went. I still see him in social situations. When I retell the story of why there was no third date, I tell the lie of what SHOULD have happened on the second date... which would have been bad enough... because I feel this need to spare him from gossip, and to spare myself from the pain of people telling me what I could have done differently to prevent it.

Note: this is a partial list. Both because some things I don't want to talk about, and some I'm sure I'm just not remembering in the moment (I mean, if I'd made this list yesterday, it would've been one shorter). And these are all pretty traumatizing events. This doesn't count every time a male actor has touched me inappropriately in a rehearsal, or every time a drunk man has groped me while dancing in a club, or every guy that kissed me after I told him I didn't want him to (even my FIRST kiss happened that way). Those are such frequent occurrences that my brain hasn't bothered to record them. BUT THEY ARE STILL WRONG.

A Year of Improvement

One year ago today, I returned to Los Angeles. I took the train from NYC, via New Orleans after a hiatus on the east coast. I think I came back better than I was when I left.

This year I was hired for my dream job (tour guide at Universal Studios Hollywood), I was cast in my dream role (Vanda in “Venus In Fur”), and I started dating a dreamy guy (Mr. Nick Sweet).

I’ve had a total of ten jobs in the last year, I think. (I currently have seven... Being an actor is weird.) Three of those jobs, I was paid to act. Five, I was paid to perform. One, I’m being paid to write. And the tenth, I was assisting a casting director. Suddenly my jobs are reflecting my goals in life, in a way they haven’t in the past.

I’ve gotten better at saying yes to things through my fear. I’ve gotten better at saying no to things through my guilt.

I’ve gotten better at chasing what I truly want. I’ve gotten better at letting go of things that are not meant for me.

I’m still on a journey of self-improvement. I’m trying to stay positive. I’m trying to stay disciplined. I’m trying to find ways to help others. I’m trying to take chances. I’m trying to ignore what is easy, and to do what is right.

I made vision boards and have a constant reminder of my plans (The Secret). I KonMari-ed my room in the most serious attempt yet, and it has stayed much more organized than normal (The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up). I’m waking up an hour earlier in the morning for prayer, affirmations, visualization, exercise, reading, and journaling (The Miracle Morning). I’m paying more attention to how money flows into and out of my life (Rich Dad, Poor Dad). I’m taking a magic class that I hope will help me delight others for years to come (Magic University at The Magic Castle). I am sending strangers my dormant books, with hope that someone else will get joy out of them (PaperBackSwap).

During this Lenten period of reflection, I wanted to express my gratitude for the last year of my life. All that I’ve learned. All the friends that I’ve made (USH, LA On-Call Filmmakers, CV Rep, Candytopia, TGS Collective, Theatre Dybbuk, etc.) All the opportunities that I’ve had to perform and to grow.

God is good. When you pray, move your feet.

Thank you for this year. 🙂

(And happy International Women’s Day!)

Five Years in LA

I celebrate my move to Los Angeles on January 10th. Which makes today my 5-year Los Angeles anniversary.

It wasn't the first time I moved to Los Angeles (I came the previous September with the intention of staying... but it didn't work out). And I've left the city for months at a time since then, so it wasn't the most permanent of moves. I'll always be a little bi-coastal, a little transient, no matter where I am.

I came to Los Angeles for the wrong reasons. I came here for an abusive ex-boyfriend whom I was convinced I was going to marry (thank God I didn't). I came for a non-guaranteed seasonal job with long hours and very little stability. I came because I didn't know what else to do.

I've stayed for better reasons than I arrived. Because of the community I've found. Because of the art I've been able to create. Because I can feel like a person here, while also pursuing my career aspirations. Because I can be in a city and the suburbs at the same time. Because I feel unlimited in what I can accomplish. And hey, the weather is a nice bonus.

I went to the east coast for four months last year (in fact, I was gone for what would've been my 4-year anniversary). Since returning in March, Los Angeles has given me so many things that I'd asked for. A job that makes me feel joy. My dream role in a play, which reminded me that there's a reason I keep fighting. A boyfriend who loves me (and also seems to like me), who supports me in my goals even when they take me away from him for months at a time.

In these 5 years, I've been in 9 productions of plays/musicals, produced 1 play, worked with 10 theatre companies, made it to the quarter-finals of a playwriting competition, acted in over 20 staged readings and workshops, founded 1 theatre company, had a co-star role on a television show, been in 7 student films, acted in an award-winning web series, acted in a film that screened at Comic Con and Newport Beach Film Festival, been nominated for a Best Actress award, trained at 3 improv schools and 3 acting schools, joined a sketch comedy troupe, joined 2 unions (bringing the total to 3), spent 3 years volunteering with a playwrights lab to help develop new works, modeled for more than 20 photographers and 1 painter, tutored Shakespeare students, taught a class on social media marketing for actors, lived in 3 apartments (and on my friend Ann's couch), and had 12 day-jobs (not including being the Literary Manager of a theatre).

I've tried to fill my life with adventures. I've had my photograph in Rolling Stone. I've taken trains around the country. I've been to many dance parties at 6am. I've sung in karaoke competitions. I've become a female drag queen. I've assisted a magician at the Magic Castle. I've proudly worked behind the scenes on a tv show doing off-camera dialogue, being a scene partner to people I admire. I've acquired over 60 wigs. I've visited 4 foreign countries. I've written hundreds of thousands of words for National Novel Writing Month. I've documented years of my life, one second at a time. I was on a panel at Comic Con. I've mentored younger actors. I've composed poetry on a typewriter. I've gotten myself into therapy, and then back out of it again (I'm equally proud of both). I've looked like an idiot in front of more celebrities than I'd like to admit (at least 4 of whom hugged me after the fact).

Five years in, I don't have an agent, but I'm still hustling. Five years in, I don't have the steadiest stream of income, but by the grace of God my bills get paid. Five years in, my life is filled with uncertainty, but also adventure. Five years in, for all the things that have gone wrong, many more have gone right. Five years in, I'm genuinely happy.

I feel great about where I am. And I look forward to all the places I'm going. Because 5 years ago, I hadn't accomplished anything on the lists above. I was climbing from the ground floor, with no connections and nothing to build on. And now, starting today, I greet the rest of my life from a much higher step on the ladder. May the next five years be even bigger and better.

When I first got to town, my friend Kenzo told me that it takes five years in Los Angeles to feel like you're making any progress.

Cheers to five years.