A Tale of Two Cities

So. For as long as I can remember I've always wanted to live in Toronto. As a kid, I vividly recall the long drives into the 6ix for auditions. We'd arrive at night and seeing the bright lights of the city always did it for me. Maybe I was simply exhausted by the drive or maybe I was in awe of TO's relative bigness and sexy skyline. I liked the feeling of anonymity as I strolled down streets I'd never strolled down before. You know, because children...stroll...whatever I'm painting a picture here. I 'strolled'. I liked how everyone seemed like they had a place to be and were hell bent on getting there. I just knew this was a place where things happened. I wanted to be where things happened, I wanted to experience things happening, and I wanted to be someone who made them happen. Hell, it was the 90s, we were all wannabes, zigzag zig ah. Fast forward a good amount of years later and the pull is still strong albeit much more complicated.

When I decided to go back to school for Copywriting, I really only saw one choice for school: Humber College. Humber College is in Toronto. Which meant it was away from my husband. It would put me in a position where I wouldn't know as many people. It would put me in a position where I wouldn't know anything about what I was doing. So obviously I went for it. Some would call it brave, others would call it crazy, I just called it reality. The program only takes ten months and can open up the big world of advertising for anyone with enough drive, the right anxiety meds, and a touch of talent. Every time things got tough I told myself "Eight months to change your life, bitch." And, well, be careful what you wish for; change it did.

There are so many agencies in Toronto looking to hire competent writers that my classmates didn't have too hard a time finding their place in the workforce, myself included. Of course some had a harder time than others but all in all I think our stats look pretty damn good. I truly lucked out with my apprenticeship at Grip. I was nervous going in, partially because I didn't know what I was doing and partially because I am often very intimidated by 'bosses'. Well, I really get along with all my CDs and they have pushed me and supported me and really have been the perfect example of how to lead with empathy and integrity. They should have their own Gordon Ramsay style Masterclass series on boss-ing. I lucked out in the boss department. Seriously, these men have made me feel so welcome and so supported. After an illuminating apprenticeship at Grip with maybe the two nicest big bosses out there, I was staring down two job offers. One at home and one with my mistress, Tarranna. Eight months to change your life, and change it did.

I know this is a very privileged [read: annoying for people out of work or working a precarious job] position to be in but having to make a choice has humbled me. No, it tortured me. This was one of those big life decisions that sets up how the rest of your life looks. I know, I'm just another control freak trying to hog-tie her future into submission but the older you get the more weight your decisions carry and the harder it is to wrestle that metaphorical pig to the ground.

So, I did what any reasonable person would do when staring down a decision; I asked for a shit ton of advice. And, the more I kept asking these intelligent brainiacs I know for clarity, the more they circle back to the same answer: "Gabbie, you really have to decide what you want". What I want. What I want. What I want. Sorry, my actor self comes out when I'm really stuck as if saying things with different emphasis will make the choice clearer. It doesn't.

Here's a gross admission: I think I've been waiting my whole life for someone to tell me what to do. Perhaps it's some internalized misogyny bullshit that makes me long for a saviour to smack the chocolate bar out of my hand, rock me to sleep, and tell me what to do... but ...I've been waiting and...spoiler: that fucker is laaaate. Feel free to cringe along with me at this realization.

When faced with a big decision my impulse is to assume the fetal position, wait things out, and consult a bag of chips until someone gets annoyed and makes the decision for me. But now, as I look adulthood straight in the face, I know I gotta make a choice and live with the consequences.

I'll stop complaining and shed some light on the universal theme behind this post, lest I only represent a self-indulgent blathering about my arrested development and food impulse control issues. The universal here is: how do you deal with the fact that you've changed? My love for the big city has been challenged by the allure of creature comforts. The draw of a simpler life, of having a dog, living in the same city as my husband, a house, and someday a family. Not small considerations but as an actor these were all things I was willing to sacrifice for the love of art. How's that for a pretentious sentence?! Now things aren't so clear.

But I guess philosophically speaking, my question is, are there wrong choices? Do we ultimately end up where we're supposed to no matter what choices we make? Do we think we have agency but ultimately fate is real and we are headed to the same destination no matter what we choose? Is that destination an Outback Steakhouse? God I hope so. And finally, how big of a house do you need to fit a Bernese mountain Dog or two? I think I'm over thinking it. I know I'm over thinking it: Bernese Mountain Dogs don't move, you can put them in any sized house. Duh!

Throughout this process I've shed an old skin and am staring at a new self. A self I don't completely recognize. A self who doesn't feel as helpless as I once did. A self who thinks I deserve things. A self who is learning how to take charge or her career like Bambi learning to walk. I'm sure to faceplate but I'll be damned if I don't try. The only thing worse than having no options is having too many and worrying you'll pick the wrong one. If you're staring at a big choice, I got you, call me.

I think what it boils down to is that, as an actor I had moments where I felt like I had no agency. Like, I had a literal agency, like my agent worked in one but I'm talking agency agency. I lived so many years at the whim of directors and casting agents that I forgot what making a choice felt like. I forgot that I'm allowed to ask questions about salaries, and the future, and what my opportunity for growth looks like. I forgot it was possible to plan ahead. And after spending so many years strictly focused on the present I'm not super skilled at planning for the future.

To everyone trying to figure out a big decision, you're not alone. What you think you want and what's best for you might be the same thing, they might not but I hope your choices make those things more clear. I sure hope they do.

Maybe that's my choice. Maybe the choice is about simply making a choice. Maybe It isn't about cities or money or even career at all. Maybe it's about looking at things with a cool head and saying "let's do it". Whatever 'it' may be...

Happy decision making everyone.

Big love,

G