When I was 13 years old I acted in a community production of "Little Women."

The director had us read for various roles; and of course, one look at me and she wanted me to play Marmee. I was sweet, soft-spoken, plump, and nurturing. I am good at reading aloud. Since it was the role she ushered toward me, I probably would have got it without any further consideration after only reading for the one part.

But I didn't want to play Marmee. I wanted to play Amy. I wanted to play Amy because she was the least like me of all the other characters: plucky, a bit shallow, kind of a brat, concerned with social status; and later well-travelled, witty, and the one who landed the main male romantic interest. I insisted on playing Amy.

What interested me about acting and what still does is that you get to be someone you're not. And you can be, within reason, anyone. For once, you are not limited by circumstances and personality. Your everyday boundaries and deficiencies don't apply. I had to almost-kiss a boy three to four years older than me: me, who hand't had a boyfriend and wouldn't until I was well into my twenties. I was horrified. But I did it. Acting freed me to do things that the otherwise insecure, bookish adolescent never would have.

I can still recite the first line: "MY castle in the air is to go to Paris, become a painter, and become the best painter in the WHOLE world."

After we wrapped our last show, the director gave us all lovely hand-written notes. She thanked me for pushing to play Amy; that in doing so I knew what I was doing.

Almost ten years later, during my last year of college, I played Ariel in Shakespeare's "The Tempest." It was the last play I'd ever be in. I remember I kept asking for someone to provide me with the music to go with Ariel's song and that my request kept being forgotten. So one day, during rehearsal, instead of merely reciting the lines, I broke out into singing: "four fathoms five thy father lies..." It was my own melody, and I still remember it, and it was what I imagined when I read those lines.

A professor-mentor of mine, with whom I had become estranged over the years and who has since passed away, approached me after the show. He didn't have to say anything to me. But he told me that mine was the truest portrayal of Ariel he'd ever seen, that I was more Ariel than any other who'd played the role.

I've never, ever forgotten that.