I think I’m finally growing up.

by Amelia Kanan

A few nights ago, I went out. There were “people” there, if you know what I mean. I’m not a name dropper but if I were I would be droppin’ some right now. As I sipped on my over priced and watered down Dirty and peaced out of the convo that was circulating around me, I realized something. I wasn’t like anyone there. Everyone around me wore the same sort of black, walked with a similar swagger and shared the same whispers of who was there. I felt bored and unsure as to why I was even there when I could be catching up on the DVR with wine and popcorn. I know this is normal for someone growing close to their 30’s but it’s a little shocking to me. As much as I love getting cozy and watching movies, I have always been an extremely social person. I live for getting dressed up, dancing, wearing red lipstick, meeting new people, doing some inappropriate things (just so everyone can talk about it the next day), etc. Seriously though, the thing I love about going out is being able to talk to people. I love talking to strangers, hearing where people are from, how they grew up, who their parents/siblings are, what they love/hate. In Los Angeles, it’s different. Everyone is nice, fun and friendly but it’s all fake because they don’t know who you may know and what you could do for them and their career. It’s all about the industry.

EXCEPTION: All (a-number-I-can-count-with-my-two-hands) of my friends here. My amazing, loving, supportive, always wanting the best for me, good conversationalist, funny, good-looking and smart friends. Please note that none of this is about you. So, read on.

I’m getting too old to pretend. I am who I am and I really love who I am and it’s taken me a long time to say that. I want to respect it and give myself the reciprocation that I’m worth. I want to be around people who are honest, real and down to earth. I don’t care how big your budget is, I don’t care who designed your dress and I really don’t care if you once sat next to Spielberg at a screening. The bummer: I love movies. I love the art of it. I love the experience it gives people. But, what I need to decide…do I love it enough to sacrifice my personal life, my sweetness, my spunk and my other dreams. The things I used to crave has changed: attention, validation and adoration. It’s so refreshing not to need everyone in the room to know who I am anymore, in fact, I enjoy not having the pressure. Not only do I not need everyone I meet to love me but I also don’t need to hear how much they love me. I feel as though I’m really stepping into a new part of myself and I’m all about it however I’m just not sure Los Angeles is the place for this new sense of self.

Dun dun duuuuun

To be continued…