Growing up, I was frequently told I was talented. And it was true that when I took lessons — piano, voice, acting, tennis, ice skating, dancing, skiing, gymnastics, and many more, I frequently heard “I’m sure you’ve done this before!” and “How many lessons have you already taken?” and “Wow you’re a natural!” I felt special being the best, and I enjoyed the attention, but eventually the other students passed me by because they actually worked at their skills. They would say to me “You could be a star if you’d put in the work.” I couldn’t. I lacked confidence.
Do you believe in parallel universes? It’s a fanciful idea that is as romantic and appealing as any fairytale. The idea is that anytime there is a fork in the road and two or more things might happen, they do. The universe is re-created in every detail except that in one, the little girl who has the natural ability fervently pursues her lessons and rises to stardom through a combination of talent and grit, and in the other, she doesn’t. Yes, that one was me. I lacked confidence.
Everywhere I went people noticed me. When I was three, Marilyn Monroe gave me a kiss on the cheek in Wil Wrights Ice Cream Parlour in Beverly Hills and told me how beautiful I was. Maurice Chevalier stopped me on the street several years later, took my hand and said, “To kiss the hand of such a beauty is a privilege.”
