I’m Not Cut Out to be an Actor

Dear Baby Maybe,

Musical theatre makes up most of your identity right now. You are spending all of your time either performing in, rehearsing for, listening to, or imagining yourself in a musical. And that’s going to be true all through High School, and in the beginnings of college. But when you start to grow into adulthood (and your gender), you will start to lose the love and passion you currently have.

I never wanted to be a professional actor. I went to school for theatre, eventually, but I started college as a psychology major. (Well, that’s not true, my first semester at a community college I was a theatre major, but that was because I was planning to major in Psych but wanted to take all those classes at the school I was getting a degree from.) I started college with the intent to study Psychology, with a minor in theatre. Half way through college, those degrees flipped and I transferred to the only school I could find nearby that had an undergraduate degree for directors. I had fallen in love with shaping and staging stories from the other side of the table. I never wanted to be an actor.

I never wanted to be an actor

mostly because I’m not built for auditions. I love to perform, I love all forms of storytelling I’ve been able to participate in, but I really dislike auditions. I’ve still, to this day, never been to an open call. I only go to auditions where I have an appointment and casting already has a sense of who I am. I was never interested in waking up at 5am to wait around for hours and potentially not even get seen. I didn’t want it that badly. I was never fully prepared, never fully committed. And the few times I convinced myself I really wanted something and committed 100%, it was really hard to let go when I didn’t book the job.

As you grow into adulthood and navigate the early buds of your career, you’ll start applying to direct shows. You now have a bachelor's degree in that exact job, so you assume it will be pretty easy to convince people to hire you. But you’ll find that when you’re 22 and non-binary, trying to convince people to put you in a leadership role doesn’t always go over well. But a weird thing will keep happening. Not every time, but a weird amount of times, when you get the notice that they went with someone else to direct the show, they also offer you an audition. Even a show you were initially brought on to assistant direct asked you to replace an actor who had dropped out. And for them, you’ll say yes. This show in particular was really dear to our heart, and since it’s devised we were actually part of writing the script and the character we wound up playing. Playing a character that I got to help shape and create brought back some of the joy for acting I had lost. Playing a character who felt more like me helped me connect and settle into a role more than I probably ever had at that point.

After that project I started writing my solo show, Love Letters to Nobody. I figured if playing a character I got to help shape felt good, writing my own thing and playing myself would feel even better. And it did. It was cathartic to write, but it also taught me a lot as a performer. It was an hour long show where I was reading letters I had written to all the people who have hurt me. It was just me and some monologues in front of an audience. That show made me an award winning writer. That show gave me a reputation in downtown New York theatre. That show made me an actor.

So I added actor to the list of things I did. But at this time I wasn’t seeking out auditions or anything. I was just showing up when invited. Until I was cast as the lead of a cabaret play that got pretty popular. We became a New York Times Critics Pick, and my picture was in the paper. I was working with some incredibly awesome people, and making more and more connections. I was invited to do a one-night show at a fancy venue with even more incredible artists, and that night I decided to take the plunge. I had been in touch with a manager who wanted to represent me to start auditioning for more mainstream projects (TV and Broadway shows), my speaking and education career was taking off, and I decided to leave the full-time employment I had and start freelancing full time. That was Fall of 2018, and I haven’t gone back.

Between the Fall of 2018 and the world shutting down at the top of 2020, I was cast in 4 TV shows, an Off-Broadway play, a web series, and plenty of readings and concerts. I had a really solid year and change. On the outside. But inside, during this time, I wasn’t loving it. I was actually having a pretty bad time with these shows.

It seems just about every role I’ve played in a mainstream production comes with a downside. People compliment my performance on this show, but all I can remember is the terrible time I had being misgendered and mistreated on set. I’d get praise for my performance in this play, but audiences don’t know that the director and I were not on speaking terms throughout tech and previews. Since I took the plunge to really pursue acting, no job has gone fully smoothly or easily. And I don’t just mean the work is hard, I’m prepared to do my job. But I’m talking about ways that I’m treated because of my identity, things that I’m facing that other actors aren’t needing to handle. Sometimes it’s something simple like the character’s name rubbing me the wrong way. Sometimes it’s sitting in my trailer listening to two people go back and forth on whether they want me to look more fem or more masculine. I’ve had a production stop filming because after meeting me my scene partner decided he didn’t want to kiss a trans woman. I’ve had them paint facial hair on me so I look more “visibly trans.” I’ve been misgendered to the point that no one on set knows who the director is talking to or about. I’ve given my thoughts and ideas to help a project grow and develop, only to be ignored and pushed aside when it came time to present it to the public.

So I’ve come to the conclusion: I’m not cut out to be an actor. And I don’t mean that in terms of ability or skill, I’m not talking about talent or stamina. I’m talking about the amount of mistreatment and disrespect actors face. The problem with working as an actor is that, too often, actors are expected to just show up and read from the page. I have been in rooms where actors will share some of the most disgusting and volatile things that have happened to them while working on a show, but they wear it as a badge of honor. They are proud to have gotten through their performance. I’ve had fellow actors, creatives, and management agree with me that a situation or person is unacceptable or harmful, but then make absolutely no moves to repair the situation or reprimand the person. There are of course circumstances where more collaboration is allowed, and of course situations where treatment is much more respectful and caring than I’ve laid out. But those opportunities feel too few and far between at the level I’ve been working.

A lot of actors are honestly stuck, and I don’t want that to be my reality. Either they need to work a certain amount that year to qualify for health insurance or they don’t want to burn bridges and get a bad reputation, so they stay in jobs and situations they would actually prefer to leave. And I’m not built to operate like that. If I believe something is wrong, I’m not going to be quiet about it. I have quit, I have sent scathing emails, I have stood up for the underdog. I have demanded respect, and when it was not afforded to me I had enough respect for myself to leave. The irony is, I’ve gotten to a place in my consulting career where I get a lot of respect and am properly compensated for the emotional labor I provide. I hold expertise in these spaces, and my ideas are taken seriously as a result. So, naturally, more of my efforts and attention have been put into that work.

I’m not saying I’m letting go of acting completely, but I am also aware that my creativity and my artistry can span different forms of storytellings. I’ve been focusing instead on being in control of the narrative. I’m trying to write more. I’m trying to share my own ideas. I’m trying to create and inspire and, if the right project comes along, yes I can act. But I’m not cut out to be a working actor, and have that be my primary focus. It’s not the life for me.

Your Future,

Mae