All posts by Laura Wilde

Living Alone. 

It’s Saturday night and I’m sitting on my balcony overlooking the Thames, enjoying the cool breeze, the night air, and the music coming from the party boats as they pass below. It’s simply lovely. 


This first week of rehearsals for Jenufa have been amazing. I love my colleagues, the music staff, this city, and the work. The process of finding this character and walking through her incredibly heartbreaking journey has been more exausting than any other role I’ve sung. Every moment of the opera is real, important, and intense. Each day this week, I have left the flat around 9:30am, returned around 6pm, and crashed in bed by 9:30, completely spent. I spend the rehearsals being thrown around by emotional men, calapsing on the floor in anger, anguish, and horror, and vocally experimenting with color, word stress, dynamics, and tempi. I have loved every minute of it and am excited to start up again on Tuesday, but know I also very much need some rest. 

The work is wonderful and incredibly familiar. No matter where I am, the music is the music and the craft is the craft. This, I know and understand. Days off are another matter altogether. After spending the past 8 years studying and being a young artist, my time has never been my own. Young artists tend to be in multiple shows at once, so a day off on one show means a rehearsal for another. On the rare day off, it usually had to be spent preparing for upcoming recitals, auditions, and the next opera. This is the first time in my singing history when I can just focus on one thing of the time being. My next role won’t start until the end of August and I actually have it mostly learned already. I can finally allow myself to do one thing well, without feeling over extended. This wont always be the case, as my career progresses, the hope is that it will be filled with work, but for now, I’m going to enjoy this luxury. 

However, this time also begs a brand new issue. The daily markers in my day have been stripped. My Chicago apartment, neighborhood, routine, regular workplace, and especially the people who walked through daily life with me. While I am an introvert, the people in my life are vitally important to me. I have nothing short of utterly fantastic people in my life. My friends and family have always been deliberate in being witnesses to my life. I am a verbal processor and love to dissect in discussion and debate my day, experiences, world events, philisophical and theological concepts, and my work. Suddenly leaving the constant of having people who know me and enjoy the same thing around every day has made me take pause and figure out what it is to live without physical witnesses present in my day to day life.


It’s been odd to not actually feel lonely, but to suddenly be highly aware of being alone. It isn’t accompanied by sadness or longing, just the curiosity of how to find and feel tangible meaning in day to day life, when meaning use to come from the verbally processing what I had just lived with those around me. Skype is amazing. I’ve already had multiple skype dates with friends, family, nieces and nephews, and, even with the time difference, have lots of wonderful people checking in, asking about my day, and always making me feel remembered. So, again, this experience isn’t of being lonely, just literally, physically alone. It’s also different from every time I’ve moved to a new place by myself. I’m not here long enough to need to find friends outside of my work colleagues (who I LOVE getting to know and will also continue to be constants throughout my career). I’m in a temporary, resigned state of being physically alone. It seems obvious, but is still an experience I’ve had to process. 

An interesting development has been that, as the presence of people has declined, my awareness of the presence of God has increased. I have a constant, sweet, feeling of companionship always in how I experience God, but being alone highlights this in a really beautiful way. Perhaps this is why I am not lonely. I don’t actually FEEL alone as I go about my day, just void of human presence. I do have a witness to each and every moment, it just doesn’t look or feel the same as with people. What I love the most about this is that I can experience and process my day without having to explain myself or deal with the frustration of not being understood accurately. I am completely known. Recent events over the past year have shown me how fundamentally important being known and understood is to me. It is the core of all my close relationships and I have a deep desire to know others in this same way. I love “getting” people and feeling like they “get” me. 

It’s been interesting for me to process through this aspect of my relationship with God in recent years. Most people who know me, know my love of the intellectual side to faith, my desire to understand, to challenge and to be challenged, and to engage with people who agree and disagree with me. As someone who isn’t a “high feeler”, my emotional experience of God often looks different from many of those I’m around in my faith communities. My relationship with God isn’t a fiery struggle through anger and trust to overwhelming exuberance, nor is it cold, complacent acceptance; it has simply been a steady deepening, a slow revealing of Himself and who I am, and a constant in life’s losses, changes, and struggles. As it turns out, what I value the most in my close human relationships is exactly how I feel about God. And I love that. 

And, it seems this blog may end up being a place I do my “verbal processing”. As I sit here watching the umpteenth party boat go by, I’m simply feeling grateful for where I am, the love and joy I have in my life, and the Constant that gives meaning to it all. 

*It should be stated that of all the party boats, I’m torn between wanting to be on the one playing swing music and the one playing Whitney Houston/Michael Jackson… However, I am certain I would massively avoid the one playing the Macarena. 

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What I am learning about myself.

I am currently sitting in the Hamburg airport, waiting for my flight to Zurich, so I can catch my flight to Munich tomorrow to continue my audition tour. I am in the midst of three major career Firsts: 

1. My first European audition tour.

2. My first non-young artist opera role as Jenufa. 

3. My first international job singing said role in London. 

I’ve spent the past two months preparing for my role in Jenufa at English National Opera, booking flights and hotels throughout Zurich, Hamburg, Munich, and Geneva, brushing up on my audition arias, figuring out an international phone plan, attempting to pack as light as possible for 2 1/2 months in Europe, and singing gigs around the Chicago area. It’s been a whirlwind of preparation and, essentially, limbo. In the midst of the chaos of planning and preparing, I discovered a wonderful and difficult aspect of my personality. I am extremely present focused. I am constantly living and experiencing the moment, which is one reason I tend to not live in a state of high anxiety or angst. I don’t dwell on the past and I don’t fret over the future. I am here. This is one reason I never procrastinate. If there is something particularly important in the future, my way of dealing with the possible anxiety it might cause is to bring the thing into the present. If I deal with it now, I can just take care of it. It’s one reason I almost always had my school papers done days or sometimes weeks in advance. 


This trait has generally been a blessing in my life. It keeps me from living in angst, allows me to be prepared or over-prepared for my singing gigs, and is probably also why I arrive obsessively early for everything. However, preparing for this massive life change from being a young artist to a working singer has revealed a struggle with this little trait. 

What do I do when I HAVE to wait and can only prepare so much? 

The last week before I left for Europe was overwhelming and incredibly stress inducing. I had my planning planned out and whenever something didn’t go as planned, I flipped out. My switch to a phone company with a good international plan was suppose to be a smooth transition the Monday before my Friday flight. I had checked weeks earlier and assumed it would be an easy check off of my to-do list. It was not. Turns out my number couldn’t transfer to this particular company. I didn’t want to lose my number of 15 years, and after 2 hours in the store, decided to go with a portable wifi device. That night, around 10pm, I happened to read a review of the device which read “WARNING: DOES NOT WORK INTERNATIONALLY”. I had a mini panic attack at the thought of showing up in Europe with no cell service or google maps. I then was up for the next 3 hours googling solutions and emailing my friends in London. 

The next day, I went back to the phone store and we figured out a fairly simple solution and after two more hours of setting up the solution, I left with my phone plan. It was a fairly simple fix, but since the solution came much after I wanted it to, I had lived in panic for half a day. 

Before boarding my first plane to Zurich, fairly jet-lagged, I obsessively planned my train routes and took screen shots, in case I lose service. I find myself dealing with some anxiety as I do this, since all I can do is plan. As soon as I’m off the plane, DOING the traveling, I am fine. It seems so ridiculous. I am a fully capable adult, with decent enough German and in cities where they all speak English. But I also experienced this kind of anxiety about traveling to NYC the first number of times. 

The irony in all of this is that the thing that SHOULD be stressful, the actual auditions, are the place where I feel the most relaxed. I feel prepared, know myself and my voice, and LOVE getting the chance to sing some of my favorite pieces on these beautiful German and Swiss stages. I guess I can still be grateful for this, even if it does baffle me that I’m not nervous at all. 


I think the other thing this pre-traveling anxiety boils down to is my dislike of the idea of “Adventure.” I have NO interest in getting outside of my comfort zone and routine to explore or do something exciting…. Especially alone. If I have a companion or know the place, I’m all for it. But I would never choose to go on an adventure. 

This realization, during my stressful weeks of preparation, scared me a bit. That IS my career. I will spend my life traveling to new (and old) places alone, figuring out how to get around, and getting out to see the sites. I can’t get around this. I was terrified that this trip would teach me that I will HATE the career/life path I’m on. That I would lock myself in the hotel room of whatever city I had traveled to and stay where it was safe and familiar. 

HOWEVER… 

This is not what is happening. I should NOT have assumed anything about myself during those weeks of preparing for 3 GIANT firsts in my life (one huge change/event is bound to bring a good amount of anxiety, much less THREE). As soon as I stepped off the plane in Zurich, I just slowly started figuring out where to go, I used my favorite German phrase: “Sprechen Sie English,” and I allowed myself to look like an idiot when I did something wrong or misunderstood. Once the adventure was in the present, I was fine and actually found joy in my surroundings and the experience. I love the German and Swiss people and the Counties are stunning. I’ve developed a deep desire to REALLY learn German; I find myself jealous of every person around me who is fluent. 


I’ve had a feeling that this next career step was going to reveal a lot about myself and I’m already finding that to be true, even though I haven’t even started up the job in London yet. I can now be aware that, when anxiety hits in my travel preparation, my fear of not currently having control is to blame. I am learning that I will, not only, be okay, but will learn, adapt, enjoy, and thrive. 

I know this blog has been silent for quite a while, but I hope to revive it. I will have lots to report, process, learn, and express over the next couple of months. I beg your forgiveness for ramblings… Hopefully some of it will come out cohesive and interesting. 

I can do it myself, but…

“I am an independent woman.” This is such an interesting statement to me. In society today, It is often a badge of honor or personal mantra. To me, it is simply a statement of truth. As a single woman coming up on my 30s, I’ve spent my life living this statement. I AM an independent woman. It’s simply what I am. It’s not a positive or negative thing. It’s a reality. IMG_1402Lots of women, even after finding a man and getting married, still want this statement to be a defining part of their identity. It’s been a very important concept to women since the feminist movement and the dawning of an era when women finally had value outside of home-making and child rearing.

In the position I’m in, being capable of taking care of myself isn’t something I often identify, as it’s the default and daily status quo. I actually don’t stop to think about it until I have the rare and wonderful occasions when I don’t have to be independent. I remember feeling ridiculously emotional, after a stressful time of traveling for work, when my dad picked me up at the airport when I was meeting up with them for a family vacation. I didn’t have to carry my luggage, get my own rental car, navigate a new place, find a place to eat, or pay for every little travel thing. It’s like I could take a break from being an adult for a week. It was wonderful.

In general, I am terrible at asking for help. I have always hated feeling like a burden on someone else. I remember, whenever I was sick as a child, walking back and forth from my room to my parent’s a multitude of times, trying to decide whether I was sick enough to warrant waking them up, even though they NEVER made me feel bad about it. I knew my dad was often on-call and had to wake up in the middle of the night for work. And anytime I had a bad dream and wanted to sleep with my folks, I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep because I would lay perfectly still, not wanting to move to a more comfortable position, for fear I would annoyingly wake them up and make my dad move to a different bed so he could sleep. It wasn’t till fairly recently that I realized he moved because HE tossed and turned and didn’t want to wake me. I still have this problem anytime I have to share a bed. I end up barely being able to sleep.

IMG_8207Living with roommates has given me the opportunity to work on my inability to ask for help. They have been wonderful about never making me feel bad for asking. I also have started to put together that, since I never feel put out when someone I care about asks me to do something for them, it’s safe to assume the they probably feel the same.

I have a number of very specific memories of feeling EXTREMELY touched by small gestures of kindness and awareness of my need. Not even need, just awareness of me: when some of my guy friends grabbed my suitcases to carry them from the car to the house, a man who always IMG_0162make a point of making sure he is the one to open the door, two of my closest friends who remembered the earrings we had spotted months earlier and surprised me with them at one of my big performances, and my wonderful friends and colleagues who randomly insist on paying for coffee/lunch/dinner. I can picture their faces, the situations, and my surprised and touched reaction.

When it comes to the 5 Love Languages, my number one is absolutely Quality Time. It isn’t just how I feel loved, it is the basis for ALL of my relationships. I NEED it to be close to someone. In a romantic relationships, Physical Touch is a probably second. Words of Affirmation are a way I express my affection, both platonically and romantically, on a regular basis. I very rarely filter the positive things I’m feeling about someone. I just tell them, awkward or not. But it’s never been hugely important to receive. I never really even thought about Gifts or Acts of Service much, although I also find Acts of Service an easy way for me to express my affection and I’m sort of terrible at remembering to buy Gifts.

However, as I’ve been exploring this concept of being independent, I realized that Gifts and Acts of service are things that make me feel ESPECIALLY loved. They aren’t necessary for me to be close to someone and often aren’t part of my closest friendships, as many of those are long distance. BUT the moment someone does something for me or gets me something as a gift, a wash of appreciation and almost dumbstruck awe comes over me. I honestly often don’t know how to express my thanks and also feel its silly to feel as grateful and touched as I do. I think it’s just a natural part of being a single woman in IMG_9456your (almost) 30s. I’ve spent the majority of my life not being anyone’s number one priority, except my parents… who are AMAZING at making me feel loved.

My dad is the first and most prominent memory I have of Acts of Service. He always sees people. He sees their need and fills it, often before they have a chance to ask. I remember, on vacation, when Kristin, toting baby Nora around, simply mentioned that she was thirsty. Our conversation went on and minutes later, my dad (who had magically disappeared… he’s great at that) reappeared with bottles of water for everyone. He simply saw a need and could easily fill it, so he did. That is how he operates with EVERYONE. And my mother is the best, most personal gift-giver I know. Every Christmas in the Wilde household is nothing short of magical. She decorates the house and each gift with beauty and care. Every gift is specific, purposeful, and meaningful. She even gave me a giant bag of rolled quarters once, as she knew I was always running out of laundry quarters and found it a slight point of stress. I never have to give her a list anymore, because she makes note of things I’ve mentioned and even those I hadn’t even thought about, but were IMG_9382related to specific aspects of my life. She is simply amazing and ALWAYS remember to send cards and gifts.

Having parents like that have made me value deeply people who “see” me. Little things and tiny gestures make me feel loved beyond words. Since I function in adult life in a single state, acknowledging me in a specific way, though words and deeds, makes such an impact. And, by God’s Grace, I am literally surrounded by people who do this. I have some of the BEST people in the world in my life, and that really isn’t an exaggeration. Still being single at my age could leave one feeling wholly lonely and generally unloved, but that is NOT the case for me. While I do have the moments of aching for a man to share my life with, I also revel in having the chance to spend my time and energy investing in my friendships and family. And while I appreciate that I am so comfortable being independent, I love that I don’t HAVE to be all the time and look forward to the day when I can relinquish some of that independence to the man I marry. And get ready, whoever-you-are, I’m a handful. 🙂