Hi! My name is Hannah and I'm a Vanya.

I finally finished watching The Umbrella Academy. Okay, just season 1.

I relate to Vanya on a deep and personal level.

If you take out all the fancy superhero stuff and the whole saving the world thing, Vanya’s story resonates deeply with me. What really got me was believing something false about yourself based on input and expectations from society and various external sources. In this case, Vanya’s family had tricked her into believing she wasn't impressive and didn't have special powers like the rest of them. For years, they fed her medication to dissolve all of her capabilities. She so fully believed them that it completely obstructed her power and potential.

The comparison of myself to Vanya is an easy one to make:

Vanya plays the violin.

She practices meticulously for hours on end

She is wholly committed to her craft BUT

She never receives praise or garners acclaim.

…until her superpowers are unleashed.

In the final scene of season one, we see Vanya as a violin-wielding powerhouse. Her music is a vehicle for her powers, and she is finally recognized as "dangerous" or noteworthy. She is fully alive in her abilities and owns her capabilities. Those around her, particularly her superstar siblings, don’t know what to make of it. It is exciting and magical and not portrayed as a force for good.

Just so we’re clear: No, I’m not on a medication for a mysterious condition. I don’t think Jeff did any physical harm to others to further my music career (but maybe I’d be flattered if he went that far? I’m not sure).

When I watched Vanya’s transformation throughout the season, I relate to her feelings and the story she has been told and tells herself.

I’m not special.

I’m not talented.

I’m boring.

I’m plain

…but even with all of these lies that are internalized and held as truths, she perseveres. She is miserable yet absolutely committed to her violin. I was struck by how much I identified with that. I have been told that I am not special in many ways and have told myself that I am not talented. I did not go to a conservatory. I didn’t attend all of those crazy elite and expensive summer festivals. I don’t have one of those high profile performance careers or a prestigious teaching position at a top university or conservatory. I was walking around working hard AND beating myself up about it. For most of my life and musical career, I have been Vanya, consumed by my averageness. For years, I have upheld the story that I am not unique and, therefore, undeserving. I have bet against myself. I have worked hard and then felt devastated yet deserving of the inevitable failure. I was Vanya.

Except, I started to realize that the story I had internalized didn’t have to be the future. Being told no in the past does not mean no in the future. Over the past year or so, I’ve been waking up to my potential. I’ve been feeling the power in my violin playing, my personality soaring out of my instrument in ways that previously felt hidden. Finally, I have stopped swallowing that pill. Finally, I feel like I am in command of musical magic.

Me, being my authentic self as captured by the incredible Heather Everhart.

This ties into my recent conversations with a good friend, Rena Urso, about authenticity. She recently wrote an article about it for the Flute View and asked me to share some reflections on the topic. She tells me that I am authentic, and I think I'm starting to believe her. My inner landscape and outer landscape are beginning to align precisely. The confidence I manifest outwardly also seems to be brewing equally on the inside. Maybe that's where the power comes from? In fact, perhaps authenticity could be reinterpreted as special powers. It is what makes each of us unique.

No, no crazy lights are shooting out of my body. I don't play a white violin now (at least, not yet), but that look in the jury’s eyes when Vanya plays unmedicated, and entirely in her power, for the first time. I feel that now. I feel something extra seeping out of me, and it has changed me, and people (and animals) are responding to it.  

When the literal magic is removed from the equation, Vanya’s story is for everyone. Are you dimming yourself to meet the expectations of others? What happens when you stop swallowing that pill and wield YOUR power? Will others cower? Will they be concerned that you’re not playing their game any longer? Perhaps. But do you still want to play their game?

I haven’t seen season 2 – will start it now. Unlike Vanya, I’m not mad at the world. I don’t want to cause damage to the musical community around me and beyond. I’m not bent on getting even with those who metaphorically medicated me in the past. My professional shortcomings are, at last, not the most prominent part of my musical career. Now, I just want to soar. I want to make music and feel my fiddle sing. I love hearing the sound explode from my bow. I’ve been a Vanya for too long, and I'm finally flexing my powers, and damn it feels good.