Chapter 1

The Quirky Things That Make You Different.

I used to be extremely insecure about my eyebrows. They’ve always had a mind of their own. When I moved to LA in elementary school, thin brows were the in thing. But since I was only six at the time, I wasn’t paying attention to the media or the fashion world, nor did I feel the desire to change according to trends. I just knew I looked different. Once I hit twelve, though, and my preteen insecurities developed, I became very aware of my brows. They were all I could see when I looked in the mirror. They were so big and bushy and took up half my face. Kids started to make mean comments about them and it really got to me. Desperate for the insults to stop, I decided to take matters into my own hands. One night before my mom and I were going out for dinner, I took a pair of tweezers and went to town on my brows. After what felt like forever, I stood back and admired myself in the mirror. I thought I’d done an amazing job: they each had a nice arch and looked even and equally separated. I was super proud! My mom and I drove to the restaurant and got a table without mentioning my plucking job. I was so nervous to know what she thought, I’d avoided her eyes the whole car ride. Well, that was no longer possible once we were across from each other at the table. My mom just sat there, staring at me, and asked what I’d done to my face. At first she genuinely couldn’t figure out what was different, until it finally clicked. I said I thought my eyebrows looked great. She said she did not. She informed me I’d plucked half of them off and now they were two lines straight across my forehead. I refused to believe her, getting defensive and trying to justify why I’d done it. Then I went to the bathroom and stared long and hard at myself. Ugh, she was right. They really did look a hot mess. I couldn’t believe it. I was instantly regretful and sulked back to the table. My mom tried to make me feel better, but then added that they might never grow back, which did NOT help. I was not only annoyed with myself but also terrified that my once-luscious (though somewhat unwieldy) brows were forever thinned out and I’d always look like a fool. Well, BrowGate definitely taught me an important lesson. I’d let other kids’ negative comments affect me, and then I’d let my insecurities lead me to alter my appearance and make a big mistake. Which was exactly why my mom was upset. She wanted me to recognize that I’d tried to change one of my features to fit in. I hadn’t seen my thick, bushy brows as beautiful; I’d seen them only as something that made me different. So she taught me the mantra The quirky things that make you different are what make you beautiful. Different shouldn’t be considered a bad thing. Different is beautiful! Luckily, my brows did grow back . . . albeit after quite some time. And I never went crazy on them again. It took me a while to fully embrace how prominent and unique they are, but once I did, I never went back! While I am still faced with negative comments online every day—people saying that I should shave or wax them off, that I’m too hairy—I just laugh and roll my eyes. I’ve grown so attached to my brows (and they to me) over the years. They’ve become my signature feature! Aside from the internet trolls, I get compliments on them all the time. I’ve even been asked by people if they could touch them. It’s like they’re rubbing the stomach of a Buddha statue for good luck! Despite being slightly confused by all this fuss, I’m super flattered. My brows have become a characteristic that defines me, rather than a characteristic that defines how I feel. They’re part of who I am, and that’s exactly the point: they’re part of what makes me me. A trademark. There’s only one of each of us in this world, so all those quirks that define us are special things that should be embraced, never pushed away. Quirky isn’t only about the physical characteristics we’re born with. It can also be about our personality traits. Growing up, I was fascinated by what made people tick and loved finding any excuse to socialize with strangers. I genuinely wanted to meet new people from all walks of life and get to know them, and I craved the gratification that came from making others and, by extension, myself happy. I used to go up to people on the street and compliment them, telling a lady I liked her shoes, hair, dress, you name it, or even telling a guy he was handsome. My friends found it so weird, and they definitely didn’t understand where I got the guts to do it—being super extroverted wasn’t their style. Like the time I was nine and waiting on line at an amusement park with my mom and, with her approval, I approached this intriguing-looking thirtysomething guy in line in front of us. I told him I thought he was cute. I then asked him to sit next to me on the roller coaster because I was scared and knew his cuteness would distract me. As you might expect, he was thrown at first but, eventually, ended up caving. See! I was always weirdly brave around strangers, compelled to interact with them and befriend them even at the risk of embarrassing myself. I still remember going up to a heavily tattooed guy on a Harley-Davidson in Venice Beach when I was six and telling him in my sweet, innocent British accent that his tattoos were very pretty. Now, I’m sure that wasn’t what he was expecting, nor what he wanted to hear in front of his fellow bikers, but I bet it made him smile on the inside. And I think that’s why I did it. Not because I expected anything in return, but because I was never afraid to put myself out there in order to make someone else feel better. Which is very similar to what I often do as an actor: I help bring to life stories that I hope will make people feel comforted or happy. And there’s nothing wrong with wanting to spread a little happiness. It’s beautiful.

I WAS ALWAYS TELLING STORIES TO WHOEVER WOULD LISTEN—GNOMES INCLUDED. I DIDN’T DISCRIMINATE.

This sort of quirky free-spiritedness didn’t stop there. Ever since I was little, I’ve sought out the company of people much older than me. As a kid I didn’t care that a grown-up and I had seemingly little in common, because once we got chatting, we had lots to say. Sometimes I even had more to talk about with them than with kids my age. Adults would ask me all kinds of questions about my generation and what certain words meant or what was cool. And I found them world-wise and hilarious. In fact, I made sure to include my friends’ moms in conversations, while my friends would have rather ignored them. Being so close with my own mom, I loved hearing her friends’ stories and found their conversations really interesting. Maybe it was considered odd that I was socializing with people triple my age, but I genuinely didn’t think twice about it. And the wisdom they imparted to me was really valuable. Being open and nonjudgmental is an incredible thing. After all, it’s how we’d want others to be toward us. So who cares if some people didn’t understand my outgoing nature or my love of socializing! Who cares if I was often the youngest person in the room! I’ve realized that whenever I feel self-conscious about any of my quirks, it’s because I assume people are judging me. That’s where the danger lies. You damage your own self-image when you compare yourself to others and to what you see in the media. And even though I’m in those magazines, movies, and shows, for a long time, I still did it, too. But once I accepted myself as I am, quirks included, it didn’t matter how others viewed me because I liked what I saw. When people point out your differences as negative, it’s only because they’re insecure themselves. It can be extremely hard not to take personally, but the second we allow that to happen, we give power and truth to their words. I may not have always behaved—hell, I may not always behave now—in a way that was expected, but how boring would it be if we all followed the same rules and did what was expected? Yeah, pretty damn boring. So let’s proudly share our quirks. Be you and embrace your differences as things that make you unique and special. Different shouldn’t be considered confusing, negative, or something that divides us. It should be a quality we applaud and admire within ourselves and others. Whenever I sense any self-doubt creeping in to make me feel like an alien, I repeat my mom’s mantra to myself—The quirky things that make you different are what make you beautiful—and I remember that standing out in a crowd is much more rewarding than blending in.