Our June guest blogger is Anasimone George
“Faking It ‘Till You Make It”
Where do I begin? For starters, this blog post is about a month or two late since I’ve been faking the fact that this doesn’t make me anxious. My entire life is the essence of faking it until you make it. I think it all started when I crawled out of my mother’s womb. Whether it was the time an elementary school boy was talking about his farts and I chimed in with “yeah me too”, or the church trips I only went on to hangout with boys, or later on in high school when I discovered how being a drama student helped me in all aspects of life; including pretending to be sober when my mom picked me up from parties.
I learned to really alter peoples perceptions of my reality when I entered university. I spent about two years at Ryerson studying interior design, when I wanted no more than to be on a stage, or in front of a camera. I wanted to really fake it. Yet for about two years I was telling people that this was the best decision I had ever made. I lied to myself so much that I had convinced myself of a life plan to graduate, start my own business, get married, and have kids by thirty. I didn’t calculate who I’d marry, or where I’d find this person, or why the hell I thought thirty was a pivotal age. So I dropped out of design school and did some “soul searching”. I enrolled myself in a comedic writing program at a college, which was double the disappointment for my parents. They were telling all of their friends that I was at school for a writers degree, dare they say college, or even the words diploma, the entire world would shatter into pieces.
It wasn’t until two Christmas’ ago when I was with my ex’s family at a church that I had no business being in, that I bumped into a girl from my elementary school. Her exact words were “Oh my gosh, crazy seeing you here, apparently, you’re performing comedy all over Toronto”. That’s when I shook my head and said, “Yeah totally”, while shuffling away into the crowd trying to process what had just happened. It’s not entirely false, I am performing comedy, just not all over Toronto, and definitely not professionally. The truth is, I just get on stage, smile a lot, and talk about my butt. The most I’ve earned off of comedy is a drink ticket. I’m a fraud, but hopefully not for long. I don’t think my comedy is some kind of groundbreaking work of genius, but If I can make people laugh, then I’m happy.
Every time I get on stage, I have absolutely no idea what’s going to happen, call it anxiety, call it being unprepared for every set, essentially I’m an anxious wild card, but it’s an amazing feeling. To be able to go up on behind a microphone, and be myself, surrounded by strangers, is the dumbest thing someone who gets socially anxious could do. Yet for some reason, people think I’m some kind of beaming light of confidence. To be honest, I’m faking it all. I personally think I’m bonkers. I think I’m bat-shit crazy. I have faked it so hard that I somehow got a job as an online ESL teacher, teaching children in China English, all thanks to comedy. I’ll give some credit to my drama courses from high school.
If there’s one thing I learned as the least-athletic person in my rhythmic gymnastics class as a child, or a drama student forgetting all of her lines, it’s that the audience has no idea what’s going on. Life is like a play, not in a Shakespeare quote kinda way, but in a literal sense where you’re constantly performing, but no one’s seen this play before, and therefore have no idea what’s going to happen next, so you can’t possibly fuck up. Well, you can, but no one knows that but you. So keep faking it until you’ve achieved your reality. Because no matter how honest you are, people will always think differently of you.
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