Perhaps My Most Important Date Ever

I needed time to myself. I could feel my muscles tensing and my brain screaming for freedom. I needed to be alone. After nearly two weeks spent with over two dozen girls, traveling, laughing, arguing, not sleeping, talking and processing WAY too much, I needed some time for myself. I could barely formulate a thought that started with the words "I think" or "I am" because I'd been around my travel-mates for so long. The solution was simple: I needed me-time.

Luckily the itinerary left an afternoon open for doing whatever we all wanted to do. And what I wanted was to explore another part of London all on my own. Though some doubts clouded my head about whether I should attempt to navigate one of the largest cities on the globe on my own, I quickly dismissed them. This wasn't about safety or doubt, this was about my sanity and grasping my sense of adventure.

I decided to see if I could find the theater where Hairspray was playing. West End theater productions are amazing and I knew I would kick myself if I didn't at least try to secure a ticket to the musical. When would I have another chance to see it? Probably never.

With that thought in mind I hopped on the tube and headed into the heart of the city. After getting jostled around in the crowd of rush hour commuters, I emerged from the underground excited and a little nervous. I was really doing this--I was taking on London on my own. Around me were theater marquees announcing the latest musicals and straight-from-Broadway plays. Newspaper sellers called out the days headlines. Gorgeous girls sashayed by in groups of three and four. Groups of schoolboys kicked soccer balls and heckled one another. I took in the scene for a minute while getting my barings.

I had to be pointed in the right direction by a newspaper seller with a thick cockney accent. I got the gist of his directions mainly because he was pointing. I followed his finger away from the crowd and hopefully towards the Shaftesbury theater. As I walked I got further from the chaos but began to doubt his directions. Though this was a lovely area of town it didn't feel like I was anywhere near the theater district anymore. Just as I was about to turn into a coffeeshop to get better directions I saw the neon-laden Hairspray marquee. I squealed as I scampered towards the box office.

I said a quick prayer before going in. "Please, baby Jesus, let them have a ticket left. All I need is one. Please?" After taking a deep breath I approached a friendly-looking ticket teller. "Do you have any tickets left for tonight, perchance?" I crossed my fingers as she gave me a smile. "You're in luck. I have an amazing ticket in the eighth row." I showed her my student i.d. She grinned at me. "Honey, you just got yourself an amazing deal." A sixty-pound ticket (roughtly $120) was soon in my hand for twenty pounds (about $40).

My date with myself got a whole lot better when I found my seat a little later--it was eighth row, center with an amazingly clear view of the stage. I arrived at the theater early because I was so excited about the show. Since I had nothing better to do I people-watched. A large group of middle school girls took up many of the rows in the back of the theater. Their laughter echoed throughout the small venue and made me smile as I thought about my friends in Chassell. The elderly couple to my right chatted about world events and their theories on what this show would really be about. When I stood in the queue for the loo I befriended the middle-aged ladies around me because they were equally excited to be seeing the show for the first time. We chatted about our love of musicals and travel. I told them about my travels from the mystical land of Michigan and they told me about their love of American culture.

After my new friends and I parted ways, the lights dimmed and the opening bars of "Good Morning, Baltimore" filled the theater. I got goosebumps on my arms as I witnessed Tracy Turnblad greeting the morning amid technicolor lights and backup dancers. The musical transported me to another world and had me laughing and singing along (only in my head, much to the relief of those around me, I'm sure) throughout the entire production. I identified with the optimistic heroine who wants to follow her heart and do what is right, no matter what those around her may think. The empowering theme, glorious production numbers and happy ending had me waltzing out of the theater with a smile on my face.

Walking back to the Tube Station, it hit me: in a way I WAS Tracy. Being in England, studying in the field that I loved and treating myself to this evening alone--all of these things were ways that I followed my heart. I was in London, I was doing what I wanted to be doing and I was taking a chance by exploring by myself despite some initial doubts and negativity. I was the heroine of my own story, even if I didn't realize it at the moment. As empowering as the message of the play was, coming to that realization made me feel even more proud of myself and happier with where I was, both location-wise and in my life.

It took nearly two weeks to secure some time to myself. But it was well worth it when I finally got the chance to explore, not only London, but myself as well. I find it funny that I had to travel abroad to reach this realization, but I don't think it could have happened without witnessing the city's beauty and another journey that is not so unlike my own in the end.