#1 Stupid.
Initially I rejected the idea of calling myself a writer. The title made me feel sick, injected me with a blue funk and permitted imposter syndrome to kick in. Lots of my actor friends wrote their own material and annoyingly seemed to master the skill and precision needed for said craft like a fish to water. In a way I guess it’s almost expected of an actor when graduating from drama school. I mean, after three years of being completely consumed with institutionalised life, what else is one to do with all this newfound spare time? I however never allowed myself the confidence to believe that perhaps I could do the same.
When I was at secondary school, I was academically shamed by my humanities teacher for misunderstanding a homework task he’d set. He threw my exercise book down on my table and I opened it up to find the red pen capitals scrawled across a double page: ‘THIS IS WRONG. SEE ME, YOU STUPID GIRL’. I have such a vivid memory of that day, specifically how the word ‘stupid’ triggered something inside me. At eleven years old and after a number of traumatic years struggling to read and write to the same standard as my classmates, I was diagnosed with dyslexia. My mum had assumed this may be the case for a number of years and so took me for an assessment with a very kind and compassionate educational psychologist. To be honest, I don’t recall much detail about the experience. I remember the meeting was held in a very colourful and welcoming office (not overwhelming at all) but most importantly that I was treated to a McDonalds afterwards for my hard work - a ritual usually reserved for when I’d accomplished the next grade in my dancing exams. I do however remember both the phycologist and my mum making it very clear that dyslexia was a word that explained my difficulties with reading or interpreting words and letters and it did not effect my general intelligence and under no circumstances did it mean I was stupid.
Unfortunately, the word ‘stupid’ will always be the catalyst and became a very dark and negative spiral of questioning my own intellectual intelligence. I wasted so much time at drama school examining and comparing myself, my education and even my upbringing to that of my Oxbridge peers. Losing belief in my own point of view and doubting that my own voice was worthy of being heard. Agonising that my viewpoints of the characters we were studying in class weren’t academic enough and therefore not valid – stupid!
In 2015 I co-founded Loquitur Theatre, a company focusing on achieving greater gender balance throughout the industry. Completely defeated and frustrated at the lack of creative control within my career, I was desperate to feel like I was in the driving seat for once. It was actually never my intention to write material to perform, rather to source innovative new writing to produce, which would in turn generate work for myself. However, in 2017 a tiny seed of an idea popped into my head. At first, I kept the little seed a secret, allowing the overwhelming obstructive voices in my head to take control and drown out any optimism I may have. But then one day I flippantly shared the idea of writing something with my co-producer and rather than receive the expected response of cynicism, instead I received only excitement and enthusiasm. Perhaps the prospect had potential?
Cut to August 2019. My little idea transpired into the skeletal framework of a show and after 18 months of development, my words transformed into an award-winning play. Lobster was not only widely received in both London and at the Edinburgh Fringe but also spoke to so many others trying to navigate their way through the bat-shit-craziness of modern dating in the digital age. If I hadn’t finally given myself licence to believe in my voice, granting expressive freedom to share my story, then I’d still be allowing the word ‘stupid’ to win.
stupid
adjective
having or showing a great lack of intelligence or common sense.
(Just to clarify, I am neither unintelligent or lacking in common sense.)
writer
noun
1. a person who has written something or who writes in a particular way.
(I am someone who puts words on a page and uses them to construct stories, therefore worthy of my label, writer.)