Choice: The Lock and the Key

Choice. It’s intimidating. It’s narrowing. It’s… the death of a possibility!

To the astrology buffs, it’s the dread of my moon in Gemini. Recently, I learned about another archetype with a similar dread, one from ancient Roman psychology,  called the Puella Aeternus, or “eternal girl.”

The Puella Aeternus never fully grows up. She’s charming, creative, and full of potential, but she struggles with commitment, responsibility, and the limitations of adult life. She leads a “provisional life,” dreaming more than doing. Yikes. That feels terrifyingly familiar.

For me, choice has always felt like a declaration; a statement of who I am and who I’m not. That’s where things get complicated. “To be or not to be” has been my quiet motto. Because I desire a certain life, I resist committing to anything that feels “provisional.” I’ve passed on jobs and even turned down acting roles because they felt too small or limiting. But while a world of endless possibilities sounds vast and freeing, it turns out to be a ball and chain. A lock with no key.

You can’t walk a path if you never choose one. And I have made choices: I’ve pursued my dreams, auditioned for roles, signed with an agent, written an album, performed, and invested in my own projects. But I don’t think I’ve chosen to believe in myself enough to trust that no matter what, my life is my own and no matter what I choose I’m always on the path. I’ve treated the present as temporary and the future as real, chasing the glittering vision just out of reach while the present quietly slips into the past.

That realization hit me hard. There’s a part of me that feels foolish. I live in Lafayette, Louisiana, and while I’ve built a beautiful life here, I’m far from the hub of film, theater, or music. Ironically, I avoid committing to anything here because I keep telling myself, “Any minute now, I’ll move to the city where the industry is booming.”

But I don’t. Because making that choice would mean ending this life; my friendships, my routines, the version of me that feels safe. The version with a flexible service job and just enough excuses to justify why I haven’t “made it.”

Curious thing about the Puella Aeternus is she loves to act, to plan, to optimize. She says, “If I want that, then I must do this perfectly.” And so she strategizes endlessly. For me, that’s looked like hours of watching interviews with actors, studying marketing trends, changing my branding again and again, working double shifts to save for my art, crafting 30-day social media plans… all of which seem productive but are really distractions. The puella, like a vampire, sucks the courage to decide, commit and trust.

I’ve tried to replace change with strategy. In doing so, I’ve avoided choice. Choosing means narrowing the path, and that’s scary. But it’s also the antidote to running in circles. Choice gives direction. Not choosing feels safe, but it’s a safety that keeps me from ever playing the game.

Choice, therefore, is not just a key; it’s the key. The stake, the cross, the antidote to the vampiric disease. It’s the first step on the path, the cause of a thousand effects that might lead you exactly where you’re meant to go. The more willing you are to choose, the more you get to co-create with others and with the Universe. And the thing I’ve been avoiding…but I want to LIVE. I want an actual career and to grow and build friendships. I want to choose and come what may I’ll make the fucking best of it.

It’s dramatic, I know. But “all the world’s a stage.”

And I’m finally ready to step into mine.