From Corporate to Stand-Up Comedian: How I Followed My Passion

I could sit here and tell you a story about the corporate roles I’ve held, my journey of how I went from Brooks Brothers blazers and plastic-rimmed glasses to leopard print leggings and a microphone.

But I can also tell you that on my journey, I was finding a lot of 'funny', whether it be: From marrying a British man and living in Manhattan, towing around two kids from a Charles Dickens novel, to my early days in Cryptocurrency, being at a Crypto meet-ups and having creepy men ask me, ‘how much Bitcoin do I charge’, or what it was like at Harvard Business School, 5 months pregnant and trying to mask my very Noo Yawk accent.

Or, I can tell you about my passion for performing, how the stage kept finding me, and how we are all works in progress who need to explore our dreams.  Because at the end of the day, living life with passion is life.

As a young 5th grader, I was in our school play. I was cast in the role of ‘Independent Woman’ (A small part with big foreshadowing).  At 9 yrs old, I was bit by the acting bug.  After that, I didn’t really do too much performing as a kid --- unless you consider singing ‘Rose’s Turn’ & ‘Don’t Rain on My Parade’ in my childhood bedroom perched up high on the south shore of Staten Island. 

Throughout those school-age years, I dealt with a lot of childhood bullying. (Clearly, no one thought it was fun to play after school with the girl who walked around quoting Nathan Lane & Liza Minnelli.)   So, when I was home, I found safety in watching these larger than life women on film, bedazzled in their costumes, emboldened in their voices. It was my escape. 
When I was in high school, I watched my mother go from Registered Nurse to getting her doctoral degree. I watched my Aunt have a successful career in Mutual Funds. I was inspired by successful women.  And like most, I witnessed societal approval of having a mainstream path & the rewards it reaped: The American Dream, a house, kids and a dishwasher full of dishes.

I remember thinking:  “Eh… Creative Schmeative. That’s not for me anymore.”  Because as the story goes: life unfolds, tragedy/loss occurs and all of a sudden following a ‘safe’ path feels correct. For about :60 seconds.

I was always torn. And that’s the problem, when you have a passion- it gnaws at you. I just didn’t know how to take myself out of my ‘real life’ and place myself into the ‘performing life’. So, I did a lot of public speaking; in the form of executive interviews and roundtables. But did I really want to be talking about Ad Tech?  Digital Transformations? Cryptocurrency?  Sure, it was wonderfully interesting, but I was more fascinated on ‘finding the funny’ with the audience or with whomever I was speaking to. 

I am indeed an expert in digital media, digital revenues and technology, but my passion is stand-up comedy and sharing stories.  And I love that more than I can love any other monetization strategy or tech stack.

So, I dabbled. You know when you want something, you do a little tinkering?  Do a little dabble?  Walk away...come back...dabble some more. -Oh wait. Scratch that. I’m describing how I eat an Entemann’s marble loaf.

I dabbled in performing through my corporate life and then on the side. I had small gigs on TV and then when corporate pressures and life responsibilities really started to feel insurmountable, I did the only thing I found to be a sensible outlet: Perform. (Yoga was not working to say the least.)  

As a late bloomer, I started Improvisation Classes and began going to ‘Jams’. Improv jams are these nights where you can anonymously show up at a theater and take part in creating on-the-spot improvised shows with the other actors/comics that also showed up that night. I definitely felt weird. I thought, should I be here?

I’m a working mother, with a beautiful family and a 9-5 job (more like 8-8), and I spent my little spare time … doing improv?  I mean, can you imagine?  I’m in my own city, waiting for night to fall, lurking on the street corner and slipping into a theater to join a cast of thespians. Some of them were brilliant actors, some of them were pushed aside by society desperate to find themselves, and the rest, like me, were lost in a life that didn’t feel genuine.  We were all seeking to share something with the audience. We all wanted to feel something, be heard, and thrive under the hot stage lights on a journey with no destination. I certainly identified. 
A short time after, an improv teacher encouraged me to try stand-up comedy and in the same way I dipped off to those jams, I found myself at a late night open-mic venting (and laughing) about life.  And then, five years ago, there in that first 5 minutes of stand-up comedy, I felt more full, more alive than in any boardroom meeting of the past 20 years.  And everyday since, I’ve been on stage.

I was a corporate tech executive on Wall Street with a husband and kids, and I was ending my nights with stand up comedy.  It’s not traditional but neither are Funny Bones. And nothing makes me happier than a chocolate cake filled with peanut butter cream.  
It’s a marvelous life - eat the damn cake, they say. Right?