Dear Katherine,

I’ve wanted to be an actress for as long as I can remember, but I let the constant fear of not being good enough get in my way…still to this day. I let myself fall into a habit of working at a daycare, something I finally changed a year ago before getting into the school system. Still I feel like something’s missing, but I’m afraid it’s silly to keep chasing a dream I haven’t even started. Is it too late? Is it stupid to try and start something new when my 30th birthday is slowly approaching? What if I fail? Are my dreams worth such a risk if I know the outcome would help achieve happiness?

—Raven

My dearest Raven,

So, you want to be an actress—but fear has been hogging the spotlight. And now here you are, standing in the wings of your own life, wondering if it’s too late to make an entrance.

Darling… have you met me?

If I had waited until the perfect moment, until I felt “ready,” until the odds were in my favor—I’d still be some poor girl from Bulgaria, not a legend who made vampires, lovers, enemies, and entire towns spin in her orbit.

Let me be clear: it is not silly, it is not too late, and it is absolutely not stupid to want something that makes you feel alive.

Let’s unpack this like a trunk full of stolen identities:

You don’t need permission. Not from your past. Not from your fear. Not from society whispering “isn’t it too late?” behind cupped hands. You are the only one who decides what chapter comes next.

Fear is not a stop sign, it’s a spotlight. It shows you where the magic is. The fact that acting still calls to you, even after all this time? That’s not weakness. That’s your soul refusing to shut up.

So what if you fail? You’ll survive. Failure is boring. Regret is unbearable. Trying and falling on your face is far more noble than shrinking your dreams to fit a version of yourself you’ve outgrown.

You haven’t missed your chance, you just haven’t taken it yet. Some people wait their whole lives to feel this kind of pull toward something. You’ve already found it. Now the question is: are you brave enough to follow it?

Turning 30 isn’t a deadline, it’s a debut. You are not expired. You are evolving. You have depth now, and pain, and fire. You know who you are. That’s your advantage, not your excuse.

If chasing this dream could make you happy—even a little—then yes, Raven. It’s worth the risk. And it’s yours to chase. Not in five years. Not when it’s convenient. Now.

Start small. Take a class. Audition for something ridiculous. Read a monologue in your mirror like it’s a sacred ritual. Just start. That version of you—the one already on stage, already beaming—is waiting. The only thing standing between you and her is fear.

And let’s be honest… you’ve survived worse.

With all my wicked little heart,
Katherine