Dear Joan,

This is a picture of me and Robert Goulet.  When I was twenty-four, I performed in the chorus of a traveling tour of South Pacific, in which Mr. Goulet starred. Professionally, it was one of the greatest experiences of my life, and I'll never, ever forget it.

This photo was taken at our Christmas party after a show one night.  I'm still wearing my show make-up, and apparently I'm smiling so big, my eyes look slightly Asian, but I promise you, it's me!

This was a really awesome time in my life.  I had finally landed a part in a professional show and had thereby become part of the actor's union, Actor's Equity Association.  With my new Equity card tucked securely in my wallet, I was positive that I had officially "arrived," and that my temping days were far behind me.  This, however, was not to be the case.

I was twenty-four in the above picture.  I just turned forty-six last Sunday.  So, I wonder if you'll indulge me and let me have a word with that young, innocent girl hugging Robert Goulet.  She needs to be aware of a few things.

Dear Joan,

Hi!  Look at you, all happy and loving life!  It IS pretty sweet right now, isn't it?  Let me first tell you how proud I am of you.  You've worked very, very hard to get to this point, and you're finally reaping the rewards of all those hours of vocal and dance training.  Congratulations!

But Joan, I'm here to tell you it's about to get a little rough.  Really rough, actually.  When the tour ends in a few months, you'll return to NYC and resume auditioning, but the roles will not be forthcoming.  You'll eventually have to resume your temping jobs.  You'll cry as you head to your assignment that first morning back.

Your husband, already an accomplished Broadway performer, will grow bored and want to head back to Syracuse University (the school you both attended) to teach. You will reluctantly follow.  Then, shortly after the move, you'll arrive home and find him sitting in the living room waiting for you.  He's going to tell you that he doesn't love you anymore, and that he doesn't want to be married anymore.  Then he's going to leave.

I know you don't believe me when I tell you this, because right now he seems so happy and blissfully content with you.  He's not.  He's just chosen not to tell you, thereby making it impossible for you to do anything to make it better.  In fact, he's cheating on you as you stand here posing with Robert Goulet.  You are clueless.

I won't lie, this is going to flatten you.  Life it going to get really hard for awhile.  You're going to endure some pretty severe emotional, physical, and financial struggles.  You'll drop a lot of weight, because eating will be impossible.  Your monthly periods will cease.  Listening to the radio will no longer be bearable. You'll contemplate suicide.

But some amazing people, people who are strangers to you right now, are going to enter your life, pick you up off the floor, and help you through it.  And although you'll refuse to believe anyone who tells you that you'd eventually recover, you will.  You'll never be the same again, the sting of rejection from the one who knew you better than anyone will remain forever, but it will lessen.  And you will survive.  Really.

Here's the good news:  Remember that guy you dated in high school? You know, that guy you still, inexplicably, have dreams about now, even though it's been YEARS since you've even spoken? Remember how you secretly confessed to your girlfriend a few years back that he was the best kisser you'd ever known?  Well, guess what?  He's going to re-enter your life.  Really!

It's going to be a wonderful, magical reunion, but also a little tough. Because of your recent past, you'll be untrusting at first, and every time you make a mistake, you'll be convinced he's going to leave you. But because he's twenty times the man your ex-husband is, he'll stay.  He's going to make your life extraordinary.  Really.

Joan, it's going to get tough, but I promise you, you're going to survive.  And after you do, it's going to be a lovely ride.  What's more, you're going to emerge from the experience with a much deeper appreciation of all the tremendous blessings around you.  Stuff you never noticed before.  Right now, at twenty-four, the only things that bring you true joy are executing the perfect double pirouette, seeing a great Broadway show, or nailing a call-back after a well-executed audition.

What if I told you that in just a few decades, the sight of a robin sitting on the nest she's built on the wreath attached to your front door will make you weep with joy?  It will!  What's more, you'll spend hours working in a garden, and consider yourself the luckiest person on earth for having the privilege to do so.  Really.

There's a big change coming, Joan. And I'm here to tell you that you're going to make it.  When you reach the ripe old age of forty-six, you'll still be able to tap that pain deep down that flattened you all those years back.  But you'll realize that surviving all that's happened has made you a better, more thoughtful person. Your friendships will be more sincere, your appreciation of life more intense, your love, deeper.  Quite simply, you're going to be a better person.  Really.

So, enjoy your tour, give Mr. Goulet an extra hug, and get ready for your future.  It's going to be amazing. Really.

Also, don't buy stock in Enron.  Really.

Sincerely,

Old Joan

Thanks for Reading!