Something, Something, Content...

nikaharper:

Two years ago, you’d have had a difficult time offending me.

I read every YouTube comment, I went through all the Facebook messages. I openly talked and tweeted and saw the things that people didn’t want to say about me publicly, but said in a public place where I could find it.
Even at my worst, I was proud of how little it affected me.

I’ll wear a more flattering dress next time.

I know that societal attractiveness is a lot of smoke and mirrors and photoshop. But I wasn’t set out to be attractive. I mean, I’d get gussied up to show a public face (and oftentimes I still do) but that was, to me, like putting the coffee in a fancy cup.
Look at the first Summoner Showcase videos, starting from Episode 19. See that chick? Tee shirt and a little eyeliner. Yeah. That’s me, alright.
I learned to do makeup from YouTube tutorials and trial-and-error. (There were MANY errors on the Showcase by the way, it was always an adventure in Getting Fancy Lookin’.)

So what, I’m kinda cute. But I have something that a lot of the internet doesn’t have: I grew up close to LA. I was trained and taught by ex-actors who told us stories that became life lessons that I hope more people understood. That sometimes, your audition was incredible but you don’t get that callback. That you think you bombed it and yet, that phone rings.
Most importantly, that you’re never quite sure what the person with the script wants.

In a way, I started to view my failures beyond my own scope. I did a GREAT job auditioning for that part, but someone else walked in there as the LIVING MANIFESTATION OF THAT CHARACTER and whether they were better than me or not, they got the role. Sometimes, I would be the understudy.
I understudied nearly an entire play in junior year of high school. If Carlos went missing that day, motherfucker I could be Carla. The entertainment world is fickle. You CAN be anything, or you CAN be the best at one thing, and NOTHING guarantees that you will get to be it.

I started to hate the perfection that acting imposed on me. Head shots, fit bodies, commercials. I just didn’t care. I’d already met actors who I loved that never “made it.” I was eighteen years old and already knew I didn’t want to be an actor. I loved it, but when you live in the greater LA area, love means nothing compared to what someone will do for an IMDB credit. I just wasn’t ready to fight for acting roles. I wanted to be a teacher.

I found that rock music, specifically the bands I loved, focused more on ability than looks. I met one of my role models in person and her nose was kind of big and her teeth weren’t perfect and it was the first time I saw something REAL be sexy. Because everyone loved her. And I started to think… wait. I don’t have to be perfect.
I just have to be real.

Soon after I realized I was a skilled writer, and then after I found “community management.” This shouldn’t have been a career that focused on looks but after many years in the industry, and when I got started in online video, it did.

The morning meeting went as thus:
A card was placed on my chalk board that said “Summoner Showcase: THE MOVIE!”
I gritted my teeth.
It made sense. A project I loved wasn’t taking off as an article. I was a decently cute person who had theatre experience. I was marketable. And better yet, I OWNED the project. I really gave a damn about fans, and art, and cool things people made, and the game they made it for. I could vlog.
I also knew that I had to put on a lot of armor, because as soon as this became a video, my appearance would be a prime talking point. I was an internet veteran, I could troll with the best of ‘em. And I knew what was heading my way. So yeah, let’s make a video. It was, legitimately, a brilliant idea (thanks Andrew) and it became the Showcase.

“Why don’t you get someone hotter?”
Riot Games is centered in Los Angeles, CA. If they wanted a hot chick, they could FIND ONE. Maybe that’s not why I’m doing this job?
“You’re fat.”
You don’t know what a woman looks like.
“She’s a bad actor.”
….Okay that actually worked. Because I cared about how I looked, but that always came second to the content. I did not spend two weeks slaving over my outfits. I spent them worrying about the script that I had written, about getting all the vernacular correct, about paying attention to every single sentence I say to ENCOURAGE and INSPIRE instead of insult. To be told I’m not a good actor… should have been flattering. Because I wasn’t acting. I was being myself.
“She’s annoying, too enthusiastic.”
Motherfucker, watch a different show. This is WHO I AM.
They will be wrong, but I don’t have the time to tell them.

Let’s talk.

You are not your dick size.
You are not your bra size.

You are NOT your unibrow
Your neckbeard
Your wardrobe
Your waist measurement
Your hair color.

You are not your weight
Your teeth
Your twitter following
Your gender.

You ARE
Your kindness.
Your patience.
Your hope.

And it means so much to us all.
YOU ARE
Your hard times
Your good times
And mix them up like sherbet
We are not one thing, we are not one color or flavor.
We are everything we’ve experienced.

Go on. Be unattractive.
Challenge what we consider “beauty.”
Most of all, be yourself.
People aren’t lovely unless you love them.
We all wake up with crazy hair, noxious breath, weird sweat.

You know the real way to “make it big”?
Love yourself.
Always be who you are. Or, if you’re an actor, understand what you’re being.
Authenticity echoes in all our hearts.
Be you. Ugly, sad, angry, yearning, hungry, trying.
Try to care for everyone, but most of all, try to love you.

warrenellis:

useful social note: combo-punching real people in the face still doesn’t make them turn into a shower of gold coins

I am disappoint…

(via warrenellis-deactivated20200730)