How Theatre Became My Home Away From Home

For this episode of Just Breathe Confessionals, I’m talking about the place that became my home away from home: theatre.

Before it was posters, productions, sound design, or helping with musicals and plays… it was the first place where I truly felt like I belonged. The place that let me exist exactly as I was.

In this episode, I’m reflecting on growing up through theatre, discovering my love for storytelling and sound, and the teachers and mentors who helped shape me into who I am today. From watching productions as a student to eventually coming back and becoming part of the program in a completely different way, this episode is really about what happens when a place changes your life forever.

I talk about finding acceptance, building relationships with students, creating posters for productions that get hung up around town, and the surreal feeling of realizing I’ve slowly become the kind of person my teachers once were for me.

And now this year, I’m watching the first class of students I’ve worked with since starting at Folsom High School Theatre graduate — which feels impossible and beautiful all at once.

This episode is about belonging. Creativity. Mentorship. Growing up. And the people and places that quietly become part of who we are forever.

So wherever you’re listening from today… thank you for being here. And as always, just breathe.

Transcript

Why Theater Still Matters

SPEAKER_00 0:08

Hey guys, welcome back to Just Breathe Confessionals. I've been really excited to record this episode because the topic means so much to me. I don't think I fully realized how much theater shaped me until I sat down to start writing this. Because when I say theater became my home away from home, I truly mean it.

Wicked And The Sound That Hooked Me

SPEAKER_00 0:38

When I try to trace where all of this started, my brain always goes back to one specific moment. I remember the first Broadway show I ever saw live. It was Wicked in San Francisco with my dad. And I mean it when I say it was magical. Like the kind of magical where you walk out of the theater afterward and your brain is just completely lit up. But not for the reason you probably think. I didn't leave that theater wanting to be on the stage. I left thinking I want to run sound for Broadway shows. Which I know probably sounds so random to most people, but I was obsessed with the sound. The way the music filled the room, the way emotional moments hit harder because of the sound design, the intensity, the warmth, the romance. All these tiny little shifts that people didn't even consciously notice, but they feel them. And I love that. I loved the simple moments during a show when the sound controlled the dynamics of a scene. Because suddenly one tiny adjustment could completely change how people experience a moment emotionally. And realizing that, realizing I could help shape how a moment felt for an audience, I don't know. There was something really, really powerful about that. The idea that without ever stepping on stage, I could still make people feel something deeper. I could help create tension or warmth or heartbreak or joy. And I think part of me connected to that so deeply because life can feel so unpredictable sometimes. But during a show, for a few hours, I had control over the emotional atmosphere of a room. And for some reason, the feeling really stayed with me.

Choosing Sound In High School

SPEAKER_00 2:48

But the funny thing is, my love for theater actually started way before Wicked. The first musical I ever watched was the 1999 filmed version of Cats, which is honestly ironic because I don't even really like cats. But to this day, it's still one of my favorite musicals, and I think everyone needs to see it at least once. I grew up completely obsessed with musical theater, listening to the cast albums consistently, watching every movie version of musicals when they came out, fully living in my own little theater kid world. And it wasn't just something I casually liked. It was something I kept coming back to over and over and over again. Something that always made me feel something. So by the time I got to middle school, I already knew theater had this pool on me. I would go see the high school productions again and again. I was entranced by them. But not even just by the actors. I was watching the sound people. I was fascinated by how they controlled the emotional atmosphere of the show, how one cue could completely shift the feeling in the room, how sound could make an audience laugh harder, cry harder, feel more connected to what was happening on stage. And I remember thinking over and over again, I want to do that. Then I got to high school, and at that time we didn't even really have a tech class like they do now. They just had to take volunteers, people that wanted to learn. And I remember thinking, okay, this is my chance. And I knew immediately what I wanted to do. Sound. No hesitation. Looking back, that's really where my journey began. In the place that eventually became my home away from home.

Backstage Magic And Cinderella Nights

SPEAKER_00 4:50

Because theater is this place where you can escape. And I don't just mean if you're on the stage. I think sometimes people will forget that techies feel the magic too. You can still fulfill a role. You can still absolutely kick ass. You can still help create something beautiful and emotional and meaningful. You are still part of the storytelling. You are still helping create the experience people remember long after the curtain closes. And there's something really beautiful about that. I remember we did Cinderella one year, and all these little girls showed up dressed like Cinderella, tiny little princess dresses, so excited to be there, completely swept up in the magic of it all. I remember standing there, realizing how special that was. Because no, I was not the one playing Cinderella, but I was the one turning Cinderella's mic on every night. I was the one making sure the pit could be heard. I was the one helping create the overall theater experience. I was helping make sure those little kids could completely disappear into the world of the show for a few hours, and that mattered to me. Even if nobody saw me doing it, because even behind the scenes, I was still helping create the magic. And over time, theater slowly became more than just somewhere I did shows.

Breathing Again During Toxic Love

SPEAKER_00 6:24

It became somewhere I could breathe. Especially during toxic relationships. Because when you're with someone controlling, someone who makes you feel small, someone who wants to dictate who you are, what you wear, who your friend should be, you slowly start losing pieces of yourself without even realizing it. And after a while, you start feeling that every part of you is being monitored or criticized. But the second I stepped into the theater, I could always breathe again. I could disappear into the world of Cinderella or William Shakespeare or Foos. Whatever world we were creating at the time, I got to exist there for just a little while instead. And inside the theater, I wasn't judged, I wasn't ridiculed, I wasn't being told I was too emotional or too dramatic or too much. I wasn't being told who I should be. I was accepted exactly for who I was. A dorky high school kid who loved reading and pigs and musicals and singing, and still believed that one day maybe I'd find Prince Charming like in a musical. And theater never made me feel stupid for that. Theater actually celebrated people for being passionate and emotional and hopeful. And when you're a teenager trying to figure yourself out, that kind of acceptance means everything. Because here's the thing about high school: everything feels huge and overwhelming and scary. You're trying to figure out who you are while also trying to survive everyone else's opinions of you, and it's exhausting. But when you're in theater, it's different. You feel safe there, you feel connected, you have people lifting you up and being there for you, not just during shows, but in life. And that kind of environment changes you, especially when you didn't realize how badly you needed it. And I think that's why some places stay with you forever, because they become tied to the version of yourself that finally felt seen. There

Mentors Who Became Colleagues

SPEAKER_00 8:54

are certain things in life you just don't walk away from. And I get asked all the time by students, you graduated from here, so why did you come back? My answer is always pretty simple. Because of that theater right there. Because I was taken care of there. It was washed out for there. The directors of the program genuinely cared about us, like actually cared. Even after we graduated, they stayed in touch. If they saw opportunities connected to something we loved or career paths we were interested in, they would send them our way. They wanted us to do well in life. And that kind of support stays with you, especially when you're young, especially when you're still trying to figure yourself out. And now, my mentors are my colleagues, which still feels surreal sometimes. Because now I work alongside the same people who believed in me when I was 14 years old. It still feels weird calling them by their first names. I don't even do it that often because a part of my brain is like, nope, that's your theater teacher. And they still trust me. Now I help with productions, I create posters for the shows, I help with the plays and musicals and advanced theater showcases and drama awards. And somehow, they still see something in me the same way they did back then. Except now I'm 30, almost 31. And I think when you find a community like that, you don't leave it, you keep it because it becomes part of who you are. It becomes home. The place where you learned how to be yourself. The place where people believed in you before you fully believed in yourself. The place where you felt safe enough to breathe. The place that reminded you there was still kindness and creativity and softness in the world even during the hardest parts of your life. And I really think everybody deserves a place like that. So yeah. That's how theater became my home away from home. Not just because of the shows, not just because of the music, not just because of the sound, but because of the people, the belonging, the acceptance, the feeling of finally being somewhere that let me exist exactly as I was. That changed my life.

Holding The Door Open Now

SPEAKER_00 11:46

And now, this year, I'm watching the first class of students I've worked with since I started at the high school graduate. The students I've watched grow up and cheered on along the way. And that feels impossible and beautiful all at once. Because somewhere along the way, I stopped being the student and became part of creating that feeling for someone else. And maybe that's the most beautiful part of growing up. One day you realize you're no longer the person being welcomed in, you're helping hold the door open for someone else. Thank you for spending time with me today. And as always, just breathe.