Addiction to the Spotlight

My first stage appearance was at the age of 12. I made the conscious decision that I wanted to earn the $5 prize saved for one of the kids who could "second line" with the most heart - a daunting task for an introverted kid whose smile was once that only signal that I was even alive. Prior to this moment, I enjoyed being a kid who relaxed in the quiet recesses of my bedroom, reading and drawing and listening to the rain cascade across my window during those rainy summer New Orleans months. See, I was my momma's baby boy - even at 12 years of age. I stuck close by and only ventured out to explore the world in the safety of my backyard. But at this very moment, something changed inside of me. I no longer gave into the urge to hide or fade into the shadow of my mom's extreme personality. I wanted to dance. I wanted to earn the five dollars. I wanted to take a chance in the spotlight. So I did. My feet and body moved to a beat so drunkenly that I forgot about everyone watching me. All I heard were the yells and screams of applause. The room went dark leaving but the sounds of trumpets and tubas to paint a rich color of joy and happiness in my world. I was hooked. When I came to, I saw my mother's face. She wore a smile that only a son could want to see. She approved - greatly. And though she was shocked to see her "baby" perform, a part of her smirk showed that she knew this star was there all along. I had earned those $5.

I absolutely loved the attention however, something changed. There was a difference in me that I would not come to recognize until almost another 12 years had passed.

Over those years, I became calculated, purposeful and split. In times where I felt threatened to have to return to the shadow of some overwhelming personality, I put on my performing mask and became larger than life! I can remember everyone at prom being completely surprised that to see me center floor, "letting go." The class valedictorian, the nerd, the reserved football player... completely showing out. And then the applause came. It was like a high. I got dizzy with the euphoria of my celebration and ended the night a tired, sweaty yet popular mess. I couldn't have asked for better days.

But then we get to college. As I had matured, the spotlight did as well. No longer did I need the be center stage in a physical way but now my need for the spotlight had become something even more different than what I expected. I became everything for everybody - each person providing me with a platform to be their personal performer. I joined too many organizations and neglected myself in the process. They needed me... Only I could do the job they needed done. Or so I thought. I was stretched so thin that every part of me performed for everybody all the time and I gained nothing from it.

Well, Michael Jackson isn't the only star to pay a great price for extreme stardom. I got to a point where I collapsed. I physically collapsed. My body and mind were in disjunctive state where I tried to keep going but my career as a performer needed to come to a fast end. See, what I didn't mention is that being a performer means certain things: everyone drinks when you drink; your car is the designated vehicle - no one gives gas money and no one never asked to do so; you roll with folks outside of your income bracket to preserve the fake perception that you have it all - I mean, what pics could the paparazzi take if I wasn't "doing the most." Well, aside from the financial, spiritual, emotional and physical burden the spotlight can place on you, it is simply too hard a lifestyle to maintain. Something's got to give - and usually that something happens to be extremely important.

Well, I've learned my lesson and I have been spotlight free for the past 2-3 years. I'm on a 12 step program requiring that I love myself first and that I build priorities in my life that will chastise the activities with which I involve myself. I have learned to re-appreciate the reader, and artist within me. I have learned to build a balance between both parts of my personality so that I am not swayed in any one way. So here I am, a 26 year old paying more than the $5 I earned as a 12 year old - a hard lesson that I will take with me in these next 12 years of life.

The spotlight is nice but there's a reason that you stand in it alone.