The Public and the Private: The Intersection Where I Exist

There’s a paradox at the heart of my life, and I feel it more acutely every day. As a writer and actor, my career depends on visibility. It requires me to be present, to share, to engage, and to let people into my world. But at my core, I yearn for a quieter, more anonymous existence. The intersection of these two realities is where I live, constantly balancing the demands of a public life with the deep pull toward privacy.

The truth about being a writer—or any kind of artist, really—is that you can’t simply create and expect people to find your work. You have to promote. You have to remind people you exist, that you have something to offer, that your next book, play, or performance is worth their time. This requires social media presence, public appearances, and a willingness to market not just the work, but also yourself.

And therein lies my struggle. I am not naturally inclined to self-promotion. I don’t wake up eager to craft the perfect Instagram caption or engage in endless discourse on Facebook. I find solace in the quiet spaces: in the pages of a book, in the stillness before a scene, in the sacred act of putting words to paper. Yet, to sustain my career, I must step out of those spaces and into the public eye.

There’s a vulnerability in this. The more you share, the more you invite scrutiny. The more visible you are, the less control you have over how you are perceived. Some days, this feels manageable; other days, it feels overwhelming. I find myself envying those who can create without expectation, who can live without the pressure of maintaining an audience’s attention. But I also recognize that this visibility grants me opportunities—to connect, to inspire, to make a living doing what I love.

So I exist in this in-between space. I embrace the necessity of being seen while protecting my need for solitude. I show up, but I also step back when needed. I remind myself that I can be present without giving everything away. And most importantly, I continue to create, because at the end of the day, that is what makes all of this worthwhile.

Perhaps there is no perfect resolution to this tension. Perhaps the answer is simply learning to navigate it with grace. I’m still figuring it out, but I know one thing for certain: I will always find my way back to the quiet, no matter how loud the world gets.