Meet Tara Troy
Growing up in Athens, Georgia, my world was small. But film and television provided a window to a world I might not ever have known - knowledge, adventure, possibility...it broadened my horizons and gave me an escape. But why didn’t anyone on the screen look like me?
Film and television showed the lights and energy of New York City, the beauty of Los Angeles and that a person could be anything and everything he/she/they wanted but something about this amazing world didn’t feel quite right. Where were the women? The people of color? Hold it, Earth Shattering, the women of color?!?!? Weren’t those stories important? Weren’t those people beautiful enough, smart enough, valuable enough to be on the screen too?
As a child, I acted, sang, wrote stories and plays and played various instruments. I didn’t exactly know what I wanted to do but I knew whatever I did would get me one step closer to the Big Apple and LaLa Land. I just loved expressing my creative side but always heard my parent’s voice in the back of my head saying, “[h]ave something to fall back on.”
When my father passed away, that seemed to be the only voice that remained. Being the ultimate Daddy’s girl, I thought it was my duty to ensure that my family would always be taken care of so my “fallback” became my main focus.
I didn’t do too shabby. After graduating with my Master in Business Administration, I moved to New York City, graduated from law school and started a prestigious career as a real estate attorney. Everyone was proud and happy…
Except me.
One night as I sat in my Park Avenue corner office at midnight crying, I realized how truly miserable I was. Practicing law allowed me to be highly productive, command an incredible salary and exist totally void of feeling. I wasn’t invested in my deals. I realized I wasn’t truly invested in my career at all. I wondered what happened to myself. I wondered what happened to that little girl who wanted so desperately to tell the stories of those unheard voices – the stories of those people who were missing from all those screens I watched growing up.
As Eleonora Duse said, “[w]hen we grow old, there can only be one regret - not to have given enough of ourselves.”
From that moment, I knew things had to change.
Through much reflection, therapy and prayer, my steps eventually became clear. Go back to ground zero – back to what truly makes me feel alive – acting. It’s a huge gift to be able to share yourself in that way. Acting is the ultimate act of service. To be able to give yourself - physically, emotionally and spiritually - to let go of self – your ego, your pride, your limitations - in order to emerge as someone else who has a story to tell. That is my privilege.