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Things I hope you have in your life right now.

Things I hope you cherish dearly.

Cos, I guarantee, you’d miss them if they were gone.

xoxo

And I encourage you, next time you compare yourself negatively to someone “more successful” than you, to take a moment and consider all the people, all the life and all the love that person has missed out on to achieve what they have.

The things they have had to sacrifice.

So, whilst I sit here giddy with excitement about what my life may gain by going to NYC, I will also (if you will allow it) take a second to mourn what I will lose: loving time spent with the people who make me who I am.

I think success can also look and feel like friends, family, community, laughter and love and I think we would all do well to remember that in chasing the Big Things, you often have to sacrifice the more meaningful Little Ones.

Capitalism thrives off a dog-eat-dog mindset. As such, we are taught that Success™️ means dominating your field, being Mister Number One Alpha Billy Big Bollocks who devotes his life to smashing the competition and reaping the rewards.

But I’m not so sure.

I was convinced that professional success is the way to achieve real happiness. And it certainly is one way to achieve one specific form of contentment, but there are many others. They may be quieter but they are often more profound and mercifully lie a lot closer than you think.

Like all my lovers, my career has always come first (DMs are open, lads 😉) and, Broadway willing, it will likely need to for a while yet. But my focus on my profession has frankly been myopic and, I am beginning to realise, at the expense of everything else.

But that isn’t actually how pain and sadness works. Someone else feeling greater pain does not, in fact, reduce the sting of your own.

Grief is personal and we all feel our losses deeply. And these just happen to be mine.

And, for once, I’m going to acknowledge them.

And like, yeah, fair. That’s right.

I am lucky and I do feel blessed.

And right now, to many, I probably sound like a privileged little shit whining about a fly in my Don Pérignon.

Cos most of the world definitely does have it far worse than me (and, chances are, far worse than you too)

But we don’t talk about that.

Cos I’m one of the lucky ones. I’ve got all I wanted. What could I possibly have to complain about? It’s actually quite rude to even think like that when others are truly struggling.

So shut my mouth, smile at the cameras and be happy, huh?

For every big ‘pinch me’ moment, there will also be many many small but equally important things forgone.

Birthdays missed. Hugs not given. Tickle fights not fought. Laughs not shared. Love that must be put on pause.

All the ‘little’ things that actually make life worth living.

But there is another side to the coin.

A side I rarely hear mentioned.

Because whilst I’m on my dream-come-true Broadway adventure (which, to be clear, I would not change for the world) the fact is that the rest of life will continue without me.

Not that I could hold it lightly however.

It carries weight. It carries pressure. Not intentionally of course, but that pressure exists all the same. And in the face of such overwhelming joyful support it feels churlish and ungrateful to express anything other than pure elation.

This is, of course, wonderful.

Collective joy is beautiful and I shall never tire of seeing people’s faces light up as they express their happiness for us. It truly is a gift that I feel very lucky to experience every time and something that I do not hold lightly

Also, with the journey of Operation Mincemeat in particular, people have been following our adventure and championing the show for years so they quite rightly feel some ownership in our wins and pride in our success.

GO TEAM!

Because this industry is so competitive and opportunities are so very rare, conversations around achievements are often entirely focused on congratulatory excitement. It’s understandable. People want to share in the joy and the happiness - that’s just human nature.