See. Witness. Stay.

Real talk: I sometimes suck at being vulnerable. I preach about it, and I try really hard to be good at it, and often: it's the thing I crave most, yet I sometimes I just don't know how to do it. There are phases and people where I have NO PROBLEM being open and vulnerable to: I say what I think, I say what I feel, and it doesn't matter. We can talk about our horrific poop stories or our heartbreaks, our religious differences or our biggest failures and fears, and we walk away from each other with a deeper love and appreciation for who that person is. And then, there are phases in life where I just.....I just suck at it.

Right now, I'm in that phase. The sucky phase. The phase where I'm a little bit shy, and a little bit scared. I'm not worried, it will pass, because it already is.

So here. Let me tell you a little bit about me, so I can open that vulnerability gate every so slightly.

I love pineapple. I could eat pineapple all day long. I love dogs, specifically dachshunds. Someday I want to own one! I have yet to find somebody who would let me, but a girl can dream. I'm 5'2", and "fun-size". I'm blonde. I love God. I'm Mormon, and it's a big part of my life. I love Jesus, but I cuss a little (No F words or Diety, but I do appreciate a well-placed swear.) I have a warm and happy countenance. I dance in the shower. I don't shave my legs every day: twice a week if I'm lucky, unless something important is happening. I sing to myself in the mirror when I'm getting ready, and it is not uncommon for me to dance in the bathroom stall at a restaurant if a great song is on. I can't hold a legitimate conversation if a Beyonce' song is playing, so don't tell me anything important during those few moments. I love to laugh. I love laughing with people. I love making people laugh. I love Peter Pan, because I think that movie is the most relatable of all disney films. I chew gum like I have a smoking problem--I can go through a pack in an hour, and I think it's a nervous habit. I can do a headstand. I get anxiety attacks sometimes and it's hard for me to breathe. I'm a terrible tap-dancer. I'm not an incredibly affectionate individual (unless we're dating): I won't snuggle with roommates or sisters or hold hands or cry in your lap unless you've earned that trust. I keep to myself. I love love. I love TO love. If I choose to love you, I will love you hard.

I thrive on intimacy. If you're in any way my friend, then I want to know everything that there is to know about you. I want to know everything that you don't think is important, because that usually ends up being the most fascinating details about people. I crave to know those things. I want to know why you don't wear the color pink, and when that stopped. I want to know why you always style your hair that way, because it's a part of who you are. I want to see how you decorate your bedroom, because that reflects who you are when you are most comfortable. I want to cheer you up when you bomb an audition, and I want to take you out to dinner when you get a job promotion. I want to know all of the things that bother you. I'm a very observant person. I can pick up on the slightest glance, shift, sigh, shuffle, anything. I notice almost everything. I notice that you don't use mechanical pencils, and I want to know why. I see you triple-check the lock whenever you lock a door, and I want to ask you why. I notice that you hide your scriptures when people come over. I notice that you haven't smiled yet today. I notice that your voice is lower on the phone, and you avoided answering one of my 4 questions. I notice that you didn't wear makeup today, and you ALWAYS wear makeup, and so I want to bring you treats and let you tell me about your bad day. I notice when you sit in a different place in church, or that you are by yourself. I notice that you're extra chatty today, which means you're excited about something. I notice that you slammed your car door, that you won't look anybody in the eye today, that your posture is more slumped today, or that your teeth are whiter. I notice that you've been looking slimmer. I. NOTICE. THINGS. And sure, it sounds a little creepy. Maybe it is. But I see things, I pick up on things, and it makes me want to know you better.

Which isn't a problem. At it's core, being there for somebody (positive or negative) is a wonderful, wonderful thing. But generally, there's a sort of give-and-take that needs to happen, which requires a bucketful of vulnerability from my end.

Sometimes, I suck at giving vulnerability back. I mean, I can do it, but I just.....can't. I'm not very good at it. I want to give it back! I do! But....what if you think I'm stupid? What if my details aren't good enough for you? I ASSURE you that your details are more than enough for me, but what if mine don't make the cut? What if it stresses you out that I listen to Ted Talks when I get ready? What if it weirds you out that I eat orange juice with my granola cereal instead of milk? (DELICIOUS) What if you find it "too much" that I talk about feelings, or that I get chatty, or that I cry over Disney parades or heartbroken children?

I used to be good at a lot of things. I mean, I succeeded at a lot of crap. I was a gymnast, I was a dancer, I became a singer, I was a valedictorian, I've performed around the country, I've done humanitarian work, I was an all-state basketball player. I've starred in lots of show. I'm funny. But that's all in the past, and all that matters is who and what I am, RIGHT NOW. And what if that's not enough?

Have you ever wanted to just shout out EVERYTHING in your head so everybody can just know who you are and be done with it? None of this distant friendship, none of this small talk at church, none of the polite garbage. Just...."This is me. And this is who I am. And I want you to see me, and witness me, and not leave."

That phrase has been playing through my mind's eye like it was on the jumbo screen.

"I want you to see me, and witness me, and not leave."

I think if you could sum up my heart's desire in one sentence, it would be that.

I'm in the entertainment industry. I'm an "actress," or whatever that means. I live in LA, and I audition and work, and work and audition. Sometimes I only work. Sometimes I only audition. Sometimes I do neither. Sometimes I go to the park and stare at the grass and contemplate what I'm even doing. Each week I take inventory on what happened, how I've grown and progressed as a person, how I've grown and progressed as an actress, how I've grown and progressed in my spirit, and whether of not I'm happy. And to be honest, I don't know if I'm happy. I think I am. I feel happiness. I find joy in small and mundane things: I get excited to take a picture with a monkey at the zoo, or running on the beach at night. I am fascinated with children and how they walk in their bulky clothes. I live with a Chimneysweep, and honestly don't know if I will survive walking through the door each night because of the pranks he pulls on me or the loud Mexican music that he blasts as he sits next to the speaker in his rocking chair.

I used to think that I wanted to be famous. I used to believe that I wanted the world to see me, and for me to see them. That's not really true anymore. I don't really care about the world. But I care about the people in my life. And I want to see them. I want to witness them. And I want that in return.

See. Witness. Stay.