My daughter Aurora, born with a Partial Trisomy of the 16th Chromosome, turns 16 years old today.
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Being an actor has caused me a lot of pain over the years. Auditions give me massive anxiety, and not getting a role I was made for can break my heart. Yet through it all, I wouldn't give it up for anything. I wouldn't have had a place of refuge when home was a place of turmoil, or direction and purpose when I felt life was meaningless. In fact, I may not even be alive today without the art I love so much.
As life would have it, I only have one child. A girl. I was 23 years old, and had no reason to believe she would be anything other than a healthy normal kid. Until the doctor said, "She looks a little weird. We're gonna run some tests."
After 11 years, three schools, and a break for a baby to get it done, I finally graduated college 10 years ago. I jumped out of bed in a panic realizing I had forgotten its anniversary.
Before this last election, I could still feel relatively safe as a woman, and that society wouldn't totally let my daughter down, and my husband wouldn't be deported.
Now I'm not so sure about any of that.
I was a grunge kid, so by now you can see a lot my heroes have died. Chris Cornell's suicide last week has me wondering what the hell is going on, and what hope is there anymore?