Intermission...

Intermission ~
The stage lights dim. The curtain drops. Applause erupts, a thunderous wave of approval. But I sit frozen.
“What just happened?”
I said it out loud, but in reality, it was just a whisper. My mind is racing, but the words won’t form. My pulse is still hammering from the last scene, yet the people around me are already standing, stretching, chattering as if nothing happened. As if they weren’t just dragged through a whirlwind of emotion. Am I the only one still reeling?
I get it. Theatre is subjective. But seriously—those first two acts had me gripping the edge of my seat, holding my breath and experiencing emotions I didn’t even know I had.
Now what? Am I supposed to just... pause? Shake it off like the others, grab a drink, stretch my legs? Or do I sit here, heart pounding, replaying every scene, letting it all sink in?
The actors didn’t just perform—they lived every moment. Every breath, every pause, every crack in their voices felt real, like I wasn’t just watching, but experiencing it myself. The tension, the heartbreak, the unexpected betrayals—I felt them all, deep in my chest. I was there, inside the story, lost in the chaos of it. And then… intermission. Just as I was gripping the edge of my seat, the momentum was ripped away. Now what?"
A forced pause. A break I didn’t ask for. A moment of nothing in the middle of everything.
How long does this last? Fifteen minutes? Thirty?
And more importantly... what comes next?
I glance down at the playbill rolled up in my hands. I flip it open, scanning the pages—then freeze. My breath catches. The words stare back at me like a mirror.
Jeannine lived an ‘acceptable’ life.
Acceptable. The word sits heavy. Hollow. As if approval alone could make a life feel whole.
If acceptance is earned through people-pleasing, codependency, hypervigilance, and overachieving. If being ‘acceptable’ means walking on eggshells, molding yourself to fit spaces never meant for you. A round peg in a square hole—trying so hard to belong, never stopping to ask, Do I even want to?
Acceptable… but at what cost?
Intermission…