I woke up earlier that August morning; the sky was brighter than I ever remember seeing it. Not a single cloud in the heavens. Nothing was going to damper my day. Everything stood out, the greenness of ground around my apartment complex.

The multi-colored flower bushes, outside my window that for months appeared dead, came out to say, “Hey we made it... so will you.”

My neighbor, Matt, the actor, whom I hadn’t seen for weeks, was a gorgeous dark haired young man. I thought handsome was too relaxed of a word to describe him. He stood tall, over towering all other males living around us. He was everything that you wouldn’t think he would be. His demeanor was laid-back, silly and when he wasn’t on a set, he was hanging out at the pool playing with the neighbor kids.

As I stood at my window, Matt happen to walk by. Noticing me he stopped and motioned to my front door.

I leaned forward and press the wood framed window open and said, “Matt, you’re back. How was Colorado?”

“Sandi, it was a blast. Give me a second. I’ll come over and tell you all about it,” he said waving his three weeks of mail in his hand.

“Hey, Sandi. Your up earlier, what’s up?” he said.

“I got a call back for a role. Matt, I was going to pack-up and go home. Then out of nowhere this happens,” I said.

Four months had gone by with nothing. I was three months behind in my rent; I wasn’t able to drive my car for two weeks, because I let my insurance slide. When I finally got it re-instated my car broke down. I would spend my nights trying to convince myself that this is worth the fight. I hadn’t succeeded in school and probably never would. I wasn’t built for the classroom. I even called my brother, the successful chef and asked if he would give me a job.

My brother owned two restaurants; one in LA and other one in New York City. He had been the first one in our family to leave Oklahoma. Six years later I followed his lead. I was getting desperate and becoming a cliche - ‘a-starving artist‘.

“Matt, would you like a cup of coffee?” I said.

“That would be great. Well, tell me all about it,” he said.

As I recalled the whole audition and how horrible I felt that day because of a cold.

He laughed and said “I remember going to an audition once right after being stung by a bee. I was standing there reading my lines, about a man that discover his wife is pregnant after years of trying to have a baby. It called for me to cry, Sandi... boy did I cry. About 30 minutes after I got there I started feeling pain like I had never felt before. My crying was so intense, the ‘oh...god, I’m in serious pain’ kind of crying that comes right before passing out. I literally thought I was going to died. It was horrible.”

“Jesus. What happen?” I said laughing.

“Well, as soon as I left I went to hospital. I learned that I was allergic to bees. I got the role. Later I told them what happen and they were impressed that I showed up at all.” he said.

“Sometimes, bad things happen for good reasons. I had gone over those lines again and again. I just wasn’t grasping the right emotions I needed to have. If it wasn’t for that bee... I would have never gotten that role. That was my life changing role.” he said.

“That explains the tattoo. “ I said

“Yep.” Mark sat there for a minute smiling then pulled up his sleeve revealing the famous bee.

“I wonder why you had a bee on your shoulder.” I laughed.

“What time is audition?” he asked.

“Eleven.” I said.

When I brought my house a year ago I finally felt like I had achieved something in my life. I had spent the majority of my life living off my parents. I didn’t even start what is my career until I was thirty. Sure I had the good fortune of looking 10 ten years younger than I was, but that was it.

I regret that my father, whom I adored, looked up too and whose love for entertainment; for which I breathe - died before I made it. My mother got to see my first small role, but then died later that year. I grew-up without that close friendship that a lot of people have. I still return to my hometown but only to see my sister.

At my 15-year class reunion, four years ago, I remember how everyone was extremely nice to me. At the time of our 10th I was still struggling back in my hometown. They were nice, but not like they were at our 15th.

“Sandi, wow... you made it.” one woman said.

“Yep. I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.” I said.

“You don’t remember me do you?” she said.

“Of course I do. How are you doing Sally?” I said.

“I’m good. I’m married... with two children. Are you dating anyone?” Sally asked.

“Yes, but she couldn’t make it. She’s busy working.” I said.

This was completely untrue. Before leaving Los Angeles I had a huge argument with my girlfriend of three years. To tell you the truth I couldn’t even remember what it was about. I just remember being selfish and storming out mad.

“So you finally made it. I never had any doubt” Sally said.

This was coming from a woman who in high school would tease and use me. I wasn’t very outspoken then. Not that I’m much different now, really. I’m totally different in front of a camera. If I hadn’t become an actress I would been a comedian. I mask my pain through humor. Who doesn’t?

My father would tell me, “Sandi, you should really think about being a comedian.”

He was right. I just couldn’t stand in front of large crowds. Would you pay to see a comedian who never came out from behind the curtain? That would of be me.

You may wonder - How did I over come this? One word. Therapy. I’m not shy when it comes to therapy. I’ve been in and out since I was twelve. This is rough business, everyone needs someone to talk to. I don’t mind paying for my ‘someone’.

As Sally continued to carry on I started thinking about this one time when I was heading home and Sally was standing outside. As the rain poured down on her, soaking her like a drown rat she flagged me down. I pulled over and lowered my window. She stuck her head in and asked for a ride. I was honored. Sally was one of the most popular girls in school. She was a cheerleader, smart and appeared to be extremely friendly. Naturally I had the biggest crush on her.

I looked at my watch and thought for a second, the idea of saying ‘no’ to her was out of the question. I couldn’t risk giving her a chance to telling everyone I left her standing in the rain. The idea of that instantly scared me to death.

“Sure. Hop on in.” I said.

As I drove I looked over at her dipping wet and thinking wow, Sally Porter is in my car. She told me about a fight between her boyfriend, Brad and her. How much she loved him. He was the reason she was standing in the rain in the first place. Apparently in the midst of the arguing he walked off and left her standing there.

I had flashes of my father standing outside his job in the rain waiting on me. No matter how bad I felt the moment I looked over to my right, I forgot all about him. When I dropped her off she thanked me and gave me a hug. Ever felt like your legs were going to give out on you? Well, that is how I felt.

Later when I reached my dad, I lied and told him I had car trouble. He was angry but never really said more than that. I got the ‘I’m disappointed’ speech and look.

The next day when I said hello to Sally, she treated me like I had a disease. My high school experiences would continue like this with slight variations. Looking back I would have to say even my grade school years were like this.

“In order to pass 3 grade P.E. this year, every student has to climb this rope. Grab the flag at the top and replace it with this flag I give you before you start. Anyone who can’t or won’t do this has to run the gym 15 times; no excuses “ said Coach Masters.

As all the heads slowly followed the rope up, several mouthed, “oh my God“ while others said, “your kidding?”

This wasn‘t the ten-foot rope we had to climb the year before. This red/brown rope was thinner and stretched for the skies.

“Excuse me, coach?” one of boys said.

“Yes, Travis?” Masters wondered.

“How far up is that flag coach?” Travis inquired.

“Twenty feet, Travis.” he responded.

“Okay, let’s get started - Adams, Ashford, Becker and Mitchell your up first. Come on Adams, up you go.“ Masters said.

“Okay,” Adams said eagerly climbing up and then down without any effort.

One after another they went up and came down.

“Good job Becker, okay Mitchell your next.“ he said.

Not moving I stood still. For years I had been afraid of the heights and standing at the bottom of the rope then was no different. It didn’t matter to me that passing P.E. was on the line. I wasn’t climbing that rope and the harder coach Masters pushed me the more resistance I showed. My best friend, Julie, stood by cheering me on which only annoyed me and pushed my fear into anxiety.

Ever, since meeting back in the kindergarten the two of us watched each other’s back and stood up for each other. I didn’t know anyone, like most of us, when I enter kindergarten. As I entered the kindergarten classroom for the first time there were kids running and screaming. Some were holding on to their parents for dear life as teacher aids unsuccessful interfered. Objects were flying through the air and twin girls, were crying frantically as they banged on the school window watching the dad drive away.

I remember not moving because I was nervous of all the other kids.

A friendly 6-year-old smiley-faced girl eating a bag of gummy bears walked up to me and asked, “what’s your name?”

I said very quietly, “Sandi Mitchell”.

“I’m Julie Walters, would like a gummy bear?” she responded.

“Sure, thanks I love gummy bears,” I said as I stuck my tiny hand into the bag.

That was it, from that moment on we were together. Julie was my best friend, and when I moved away at the end of our fourth grade year, that friendship moved on as well.

“Come on you can do it,” Julie yelled.

“Listen to your friend, come on Mitchell get up there.” the coach bellowed.

“I’m not worry about getting up there, coach. As much as I am getting back down. I seriously can’t do this... I watched my father fall off a ladder when I younger. I’m not going up there... nothing and no one” looking at Julie “will get me up there.” I firmly said.

“Mitchell, you have got to be the most difficult student I have ever had.” Masters grumbled.

It was true, I was difficult and I had no problem with being that way. If I didn’t want to do something I didn’t do it.

“Well the only way your pass my class is to run the gym 15 times, you better get going and since you so eager” looking at Julie “let’s go Walters, it’s your turn,” he announced.

Julie on the other hand would have climbed up that rope if it was on fire. She was brave and outspoken. I know that is why we got along. Julie bolted for the mat, jumped on that swinging rope, climbed to the top, where she grabbed the flag, exchanged it, looked down, slide halfway and waited for coach Masters to stand beneath her.

“Walters, are you okay?“ he asked.

She smiled at me and then let go. She would be the only friend to this day that stuck up for me when it was clear I wouldn’t for myself. As we run pass the coach, we tried not to laugh. He had blood on his shirt, cotton in his nose and was holding an ice pack to his head.

Julie Walters was the friend I wanted for a lifetime. When I lost that friendship and two more because my family moved a lot. I started to be afraid of meeting people. I hated that feeling of losing people important too me. As I got older I vowed to myself to never drop a friend. Something I’m proud to say I haven’t ever done. They’ve all walked away from me. So I remained everyone’s friend, nice sweet Sandi and kind to all. Let me clarify this, I considered them as my friends even if they didn’t. I was the kind of kid that everyone knew and liked, but only at school. I was never invited anywhere. I went to football games and other events, but always by myself.

Standing there, among the faces that looked familiar but weathered by time, I graciously took in all the “congrats” on my career that felt phony. I discovered for the first time that I didn’t care about being accepted by these people anymore. I had spent my life trying to get anyone to notice me, respect me and even like me, that it felt weird to be the center of attention like that. I cared so much about others, that the ones that truly loved me and stood by me got nothing from me. I became the type of person I couldn’t stand. I spent 5 years of my life thinking I was better than everyone us, I lost touch with my family and treated myself badly.

I had pictured that evening in my mind over and over; I would stand out finally. The reunion was at dark green log cabin on a lake out in the middle of nowhere on a 3 acre ranch. I spent the rest of the evening sitting outside on the porch. I enjoyed the amazement of life and rediscovering me, the one person I kept rescheduling. Our class president, Amber, had always been nice to me and we had stayed close friends since meeting up again at our 10th class reunion. She and I had being in the spotlight in common. She was a lead singer in a band. We sat there for about two hours just talking about life. When the night was over I thought I would feel relieved. Instead I felt relaxed.

Every night I used to think about my future, like every little girl I dreamt of being famous. I could have been in front of cameras sooner then I was, if I wasn’t so scared. All these years of disappointment and heartache made me the artist I am today.

The flash of bulbs from the photographers and hearing them say, “Sandi... over here” meant more to me now then I thought it would, in childhood dreams. I would smile and pose for them, knowing deep in my heart I’m doing what I was born to do.

I still dream of writing a screenplay based on my life and other development running around inside my head, aching to be set free.

As my brother and his wife pulled up in front of my house, I remembered why I had stuck with this dream of becoming someone. It was because I was already someone; I just hadn’t seen it before. I needed it for me.

My partner of three years and eight months pregnant went to greet them, as my nephew Taylor ran up to me yelling, “Sandi... over here,“ holding a camera. I felt the presence of father for the first time in long time. Not only was he named after him but also he looked just like him. How my father would have been proud of all his children and including me.

For year my parents worried about me. I can’t begin to tell you how many careers I have started in my lifetime. I went to school to become a lawyer, switched half way through and wanted to become a therapist. My love for music lead me to broadcasting school. When I finished that I decided that wasn’t for me either. I had always loved to write. I just never stuck with it. When I lost the ability to think successful and form intelligent sentences I gave up. To say I put my parents through rough times would be understatement.

Seeing my sister came out of my house with her family to greet our younger brother was mind-blowing. For two reason really. One, my sister and I had never really been close when were younger. I actually couldn’t stand her. It was the typical loving sister relationship. Two, she was coming out of my house. In that moment I realized how lucky I really was. I had parents who stood behind me and encouraged me, even when I couldn’t. I finally was in a relationship that was healthy and rewarding.

As they all hugged and kissed each other, I stood back and watched. My sister and brother joined me and we watched as our families melted into one.

Each of us made it. Each of us had children or in my case, 37 and waiting for the first one to arrive.

Screaming girls, boys fighting for a chance for one split second of time and overwhelmed adults being pulled in every direction.