Rediscovering Storytelling

From a young age, I was drawn to live art forms. I fell for the magic of it all—the costumes, the sets, the stories that came alive under the lights. Whether told through movement, music, or words, every moment kept me leaning forward, waiting for what came next. Those experiences gave me a pretty vivid (and sometimes wild) imagination.

I loved being part of theatre and dance, bringing stories to life. But when the pandemic hit, the stage went dark, and I drifted away from that world. I didn’t aim to become a professional performer, but I knew I wanted a career where creativity mattered.

Then came the great job search of 2024—and I realized I had no idea what a creative career really meant. Was it graphic design? Writing? Marketing? Event production? I applied to just about everything that sounded remotely creative.

That’s when I landed the D23 Events & Programming Internship with The Walt Disney Company. It opened my eyes to so many different kinds of roles I didn’t even know existed. Later, I joined the Disneyland Resort Corporate Social Responsibility team, where I focused on business relations and community service. 

Somewhere between those two internships, it clicked for me: what I really loved was storytelling. Every detail in a project—from the visuals to the messaging—works together to tell a cohesive story. I started paying closer attention to marketing campaigns and how they make people feel. One of my favorites is “Share a Coke.” It’s such a simple idea but so powerful. If I see a Coke with my friend’s name on it, I’ll buy it or send them a picture. It’s personal. It’s human. And it worked on me.

That’s the kind of work I want to be part of—stories that connect brands to people. But at the time, I felt stuck. I needed a change and a way to reconnect with my performing roots—the part of me that first fell in love with storytelling in the first place.

Finding my Voice 

To quote Princess Belle, “I want adventure in the great wide somewhere.” The opportunity to travel, perform, and work with people from all over the world intrigued me, so I decided to audition for the Entertainment Hostess role with Disney Cruise Line. I was given a few scripts to learn and asked to create a personal statement using a prop.

Memorizing the scripts came easily; developing the characters, not so much. How could I transform into someone I knew nothing about? I gave it my best shot, but honestly, it all felt flat. When it came to the personal statement, I had to figure out what my story was—and that required some serious self-reflection. Picture me pacing around my room, trying to find a prop to fit into a narrative I didn’t even know how to tell. There it was again—that same feeling of being stuck I was trying to escape. I had to see my surroundings in a new way, to think outside the box, to bring back that wild imagination I had as a kid.

When I was a baby, my parents gave me a sign that says “Fairytales do come true.” It’s lived in every place I’ve called home—a constant reminder that my dreams will come to life. Aha! It wasn’t just a decoration; it was my sword and shield—clearing my path, fighting off doubt, and blocking out negativity. At that moment, I finally felt like a storyteller again.

Thank goodness the casting director saw my potential and gave me the job! Leaving Corporate America wasn’t a decision I took lightly. I had worked my entire life to get there, but deep down, I knew I owed it to myself to take this risk.

Developing Characters 

When I got onboard the Disney Wonder, I began learning new shows and stepping into characters that exist within Disney worlds—but not ones you see in movies or theme parks. That gave me the freedom to shape their personalities, which was both exciting and intimidating.

At first, I struggled. I wanted someone to tell me exactly how to do it—but that wouldn’t have helped me grow as a performer or storyteller. The first character I met was dear Beverly, a storyteller who brings fairytales to life (kind of ironic, considering I’m on my own storytelling journey). My first instinct was to copy my teammates, portraying her as a frail, old British woman. But that version wasn’t working for me. With encouragement from my manager, I found my own voice. My Beverly became a true fan girl—cheering on the characters, calling them out when needed, and delightfully clumsy. I finally knew how to deliver the lines, and more importantly, I understood the story I wanted to tell.

Whenever I get a new script, I start by thinking about the audience. Who am I speaking to? What do they need to feel or understand? How does this character fit into the story, and how can I make their choices come alive? Being a performer involves lots of trial and error, constantly testing what works and adjusting to the reactions in front of you. The same script can play very differently for children, teenagers, families, or adults. Learning to read the audience and adapt my performance has been one of the biggest lessons in storytelling.

Having the freedom to create my own characters has been a huge learning experience. In theatre, a director often has a fixed vision and the actor’s job is to carry it out. Here, I’m responsible for both creation and delivery. I even got to develop my pirate persona, Aye Aye Emma, entirely from scratch and figure out how she fit into the larger narrative. Every choice—from movement to tone to timing—shapes a story, and every performance taught me something new about how to connect with an audience.

From Stage to Strategy

I’m loving my sea legs, but I know I have a strong desire to build world-class campaigns. I was terrified to leave a traditional job, worried that people wouldn’t see how performing and living on a cruise ship could translate into the corporate world. Yet this experience has given me an amazing opportunity to learn how to craft powerful, effective narratives.

Whether creating a character or a campaign, the key question is the same: What’s the story I’m trying to tell, and how can I make people care? That mindset has shaped how I approach performance—and how I think about storytelling in any setting. Whether I’m entertaining a room full of families or leading a corporate campaign, the goal is the same: to create a narrative that resonates with the audience.

I’ve learned to think outside the box, give items new meanings, adapt to different audiences, and deliver clear messaging—skills that are often overlooked but are invaluable in any creative or professional context.