Parents are the most diabolical and ruthless bunch of dream killers I’ve ever seen. They’re like a biker gang. Only instead of shotguns and crystal meth they use hand-wringing and fear.My mom worried about me becoming an actor, and warned me that without any relatives in the business, I’d be facing the uphilliest battle on my own. So I did what I do best – ignored her – and went about pursuing my goal. And when I started booking work, my mom became my most supportive fan, angling to be my date to the Oscars. Get in line, lady.
Who else is whispering nonsense in your ear? Chickenshit friends? Jealous classmates? Some guy you met at a party? Perhaps it's time to listen to Thoreau and simplify.
Let’s permanently lose the negative folks (“secure empty trash,” Mac users) and go about finding the support group we deserve. It’s not as hard as you think. I have dozens of people that support the crap out of me. Like my friend Jenn. Talk about looking out for me – she’s the only person I know who wouldn’t hesitate to pull the plug.
Seriously though, one day a few years ago I was feeling some doubt, so I called Jenn and asked her, “What if I don’t make it?” And Jenn simply said, “Yeah, what if you do?” I haven’t doubted myself since.
Trust me, you’ll find a bevy of these encouraging types. Count me as your first. And in the end, remember there are only three things standing between you and achieving your dream: your balls, and wanting it bad enough.
