✑ My name is Olivia Grey & I want to document my journey from monotony to autonomy. This is my first entry.

     ‘Introduce yourself,’ it says. Instantly my mind is thrown back to preoccupied businessmen, defensive employees and then me, standing meek and shaking in the centre of job-interview-ground-zero.

My smile trembles at the corners and I’m dying inside, forcing myself to make eye contact with tired, yellowed, jaded eyeballs that have seen too little and dreamt too much.

I shake their large leathery hands in my small soft one. I shake it firmly, not like a dead, wet fish like other women. I shake hands like my father taught me, with conviction. And yet even if I do get the job I become ‘little Olivia.’ ‘Sweet little Olivia, such a nice girl.’ They asked me to introduce myself, but I don’t think they were listening. 

Introduce myself? God, I’ve spent so long trying to fight my first impression that I’m not too sure who that is anymore.

I’ve always tried to make myself stronger, bigger and broader than I physically appear. I’m only 5’2. I have thin little legs and boobs that are slightly too big, ones that I don’t have the gumption to make work for me. I have thick, unmanageable hair that I could only get to work for me but going the pixie route.

And I have a big nose. For which I was brutally bullied for as a teen and will forever be furious about. I’ll write about my experience with having my own autonomy stolen from me at the delicate age of 11 soon too I expect.

But, for all intents and purposes that is why I am fighting this monotony in exchange for autonomy. As much as I might say it’s society’s low expectations for women, or say; my socio-economic background, or even the indoctrinated fear of failure people force on you when you say you want to be an actor when you finally actually grow up, it’s not.

It’s because I was bullied. (Again, still furious.)

But the trouble is of course that one must face this trauma in order to begin to challenge it whilst also not wishing to dwell on it any more than I have through years of high school because all I was then was the bullied girl with the big nose and bushy hair and knock-off brand names.

Introduce yourself?

Well I am bigger than these bones. Larger than this life. My wingspan is vast. Though I am ankle-deep in the mud, my toes are dipped in star-light. I will always believe that. And I will continue searching for it even if it takes me my life’s work because I am not content anymore to be another cog in the machine.

I’m 26 years old working casual hours at a cheap retail chain for god’s sake. It’s only my second long-term job. (Again, as much as I might like to blame the job market it’s the shot-through self-esteem.)

People tell me I should be a writer, that I was born to write and although I can write I’ve always wanted to be other people. When you act with someone, even whilst playing someone who isn’t yourself you actually connect with that other person. That’s something I feel like I have never experienced outside of a Drama class. You are with them as they run the gamut of their proxy-ed emotions. Or not. You could just be sitting with them as they feel the full stretch of sorrow, fear, joy, love. And they are there for you.

That’s what I love about acting. You become wholly unlike yourself but are gifted with new tools to take away back into your own life. But… my innate terror of failure and unfamiliar surroundings (all of which stem back to, you guessed it; bullying) have frozen me in place and so I have only experienced that a scant few times. I could count them on one hand. I could also say that it’s because I also live hours away from my closest city where all the action is, but I think we can dispel with the misdirection now don’t you think?

Here’s another one to lay to bed for you; I am so frustrated by the lives we’re living.

Pay your bills. Keep your house tidy (but not too tidy.) Smile at the customers. Have a back-up plan. Go into this industry; there’s work there.

Enter crypto.

I’m still early in the game but man is it overdue.

I’m done. I’m done with being stuck between a rock and a hard place. I’m done with the tall poppy syndrome. I’m done with the shallow expectations.

Enter Steemit.

Which is interesting actually, now that we bring it up. I’ve been absolutely scouring Steemit, reading about this new platform and no, I still don’t understand the payouts.

But there was something I stumbled across in all this mad searching. Steemit; it’s what we make of it.

You mean… I don’t have to write cute quotes? I don’t have to post cute selfies? I don’t have to butcher out my idealistic, defiant aspirations in order to make other people comfortable?

Be unique they say, add value they say.

You mean I can scream out into the void and this time… there might be an answer? Better yet, a deafening battle-cry?

We’re breaking new ground, guys. We’re taking charge of our future, of our potential and the rewards for what we actually care about, what we’re actually suited for. And we’re doing it whilst being ourselves. Our innovative, future-driven selves.

What a novel idea.