Nicolette, we appreciate you taking the time to share your story with us today. Where does your story begin?
In hindsight, SCAD and Texas Monthly were the launchpads of my professional life as a writer, but my artistic journey began much earlier as a bambina. Starting in Pre-K, I was enrolled seasonally in music, dance classes, voice lessons, various sports, or theater arts. What started as beloved hobbies like my adoration for reading books and writing in my diary. Eventually, these artistic interests of mine evolved into lifelong passions—and a career!
Since childhood, I always believed in my mind, body, and soul that I was an artist and an athlete. College admissions forced me to choose between the arts or athletics, and I am grateful I chose to follow my artistic dreams rather than competitive sports. To each their own. Ultimately, I preferred the freedom of self-expression within the arts over volleyball and swimming. I played volleyball for two teams: a city club organization and LTISD; however, I trained in swimming at West Austin Athletics in Westlake. Halfway through high school, that’s when I decided theater arts and film was my life pursuit.
Originally, I was accepted to Savannah College of Art & Design (SCAD) to study Media & Performing Arts (MPA). My desire was to go into film, television, and Broadway. I was an Honor Thespian at Lake Travis High School and truly believed I was destined to be an actress. Since I was a little girl, that was my dream… Yet as the stars seemingly aligned in Savannah, my intuition and my spirit felt a calling elsewhere. Suddenly, to much dismay, I did not enjoy being in the spotlight. Secretly, I felt drained at the idea of pretending to be someone else. Fantasy (acting) had become a chore instead of an outlet… This realization perplexed me. Even as a teenager, my change of heart sparked an identity crisis. I went from “all eyes on me” to reclusive. To figure it all out, I temporarily withdrew from SCAD to reflect, train with a masters swim team, and work at a marina.
Upon return to SCAD, I shifted majors to the solitary art of writing. Finally, I embraced my ambivert nature. It showed in my grades how much my enthusiasm for writing was shining! Literally. Immediately after I shifted from MPA to a B.F.A. in writing, I qualified for the Dean’s List five quarters in a row. My joy for writing had reignited all over again. Because I hadn’t spent that much time writing stories since my childhood diaries. The essays in K-12 were always limited, and I didn’t have the freedom to explore my voice.
Writing helped me discover my true introverted nature, whereas theater arts assisted me with my extroverted self. But I loved the writing program so much that I did summer school to make up for those two quarters and still graduated on time with my classmates who had started in the fall. (I graduated high school early in December and went straight to college in January). Ultimately, while I am grateful I chose writing as my focus—and I have continued to sing, dance, play sports, and be my theatrical self—I do miss being on stage and would love to showcase my vocal, dance, and theatrical talents—preferably through a digital platform rather than the nightlife.
Can you talk to us a bit about the challenges and lessons you’ve learned along the way. Looking back would you say it’s been easy or smooth in retrospect?
The most significant professional challenges I face are directly related to my dyslexia, my modeling photos, and the fact I claim to be a dancer. Some judgmental people have assumed that I’m a s*ripper without even considering that I was trained in dance from a young age (beginning with ballet) and continue to dance throughout adulthood. The fact I like to explore fashion, sing melodies, and dance in feminine costumes is a bit too provocative and salacious for certain members of society. That’s why I have to be careful, because it might cost me a job that I really want in corporate. Which is unfortunate, but I’m not famous; I’m simply an underground artist that doesn’t yet have the financial power to do whatever she wants in life without ostracization.
Predominantly, my dyslexia is what causes persistent issues and amusement in my writing career. A dyslexic writer is an oxymoron, and society (particularly those from academia) can tear some of my writings to pieces with diabolical glee. Sadly, I’ve had colleagues, frenemies, and strangers treat me like a complete imbecile, solely due to my grammar. This is why I no longer hide that I’m dyslexic. Nor do I use it as a crutch; I simply own it unapologetically and without shame. Anyone with understanding will grasp the struggle and also realize that I have exceptional gifts in other departments of life (even if my grammar is quite colorful and will likely remain a work in progress).
Unfortunately, like many others, I wasn’t diagnosed as a kid because dyslexia was overlooked and undermined. It wasn’t until after grad school that I was diagnosed with 2E dyslexia. However, the issues arose in seventh grade grammar and AP English my junior year of high school. I had taught myself how to read with the use of Hooked on Phonics at the age of three. Reading and spelling had never been an obvious issue for me. Yet I would often mix up past, present, and future tenses, as well as minor grammatical errors that began to accumulate. Until one teacher finally noticed, specifically my AP English teacher. Mrs. Goodman realized I had taught myself grammar, and the system had failed me. The semester I wanted to drop out of AP English, she told me that my writing was wonderful, even if the grammar was lacking, and to stick with the program. Thank goodness for teachers like Mrs. Goodman.
Those are the two main professional struggles I face. Personally, I feel reluctant to share too much of my personal challenges within editorial interviews. However, I explore a lot of my memories through nonfiction memoirs and my magical realism book. Although I am proud of myself for everything that I’ve overcome behind the scenes.
Appreciate you sharing that. What else should we know about your professional background?
Born and raised in Texas and NYC—I’m an artist: published writer, dancer, vocalist, thespian, and amateur photographer. For years, I’ve covered numerous press events as a (dyslexic) writer. My portfolio reflects a vast array of creative content, and I’ve obtained 110+ publications in the US and Europe so far. As a freelance writer, I’ve collaborated with companies and publicity teams from Texas Monthly, National Geographic, Prevention Magazine, HBO Films, The Hollywood Reporter, SXSW, The David Lynch Foundation, The University of Texas at Austin, and more. Over time, I’ve interviewed an extensive list of diverse talent that inspired me, including artists like Oscar nominee Greta Gerwig and Oscar winner Jimmy Chin. Presently, my portfolio entails 12 national awards or scholarships, including both individual and group projects.
Presently, I’m employed as a contractor for artificial intelligence projects. My career transcends multiple industries like creative writing, publishing, sales, AI prompt engineering, jewelry, voice acting, customer service, fashion, A&E, fine dining, and tech. No matter the job I serve(d) in order to make a living—my focus always finds its way back home to the arts! … There is not one artistic achievement in particular that I’m most proud of, which is why accolades have their own page on my website to showcase the accumulative results of hard efforts. Nevertheless, if I had to choose two of my strongest traits that set me apart, it would be my ability to thrive off exploring diverse environments and my authenticity.
What were you like as a kid?
Growing up, I was an innate, reckless tomboy, a girly girl, and a huge nerd who loved the library and going to school. I was one of those kids who couldn’t pick a favorite color, movie, food, or anything. I liked everything! Basically, I was in love with life and adored the little things with a sense of wanderlust. Looking back, I’ve habitually been as tough as I am sensitive and as transparent as I am secretive. I’ve always had a deep empathy for animals and wildlife, and it used to make me sad when adults talked about the rainforest deteriorating.
Ever since I was a kid, I’ve become excited over the little pleasures, like a pizza party, roses made of icing, or butterflies floating in the sun on a pretty day. Take me to the water, and I’m even more cheerful because I lived in the water as a child. My parents had to drag me out of the pools, or the beach in Kauai. But yeah, I remember studying wildflowers for fun and identifying them from the car windows. I remember being young enough that I thought the moon was chasing me because wherever I moved at night, it seemed to follow. Until I realized it had nothing to do with me—that gravity controlled the moon and I’m “a molecular dot in the universe” (referencing Calvin and Hobbes comics).
Overall, I was a super joyful, goofy kid. There was always a bit of melancholy angst; the heavier emotions were mostly well hidden in my diaries. But I had a really blessed childhood in multiple ways. My parents are wonderful providers; they knocked it out of the park when it came to providing for their children. This allowed me the freedom to explore almost any (artistic or athletic) hobby that I wanted to within reason.
Being raised in a multi-ethnic household, the masculine energy was extra intense, and I think that I was mimicking some men in my family because I wanted to feel stronger (since I was the youngest and littlest female in the family at the time). Finally, after so many busted kneecaps, deep cuts, concussions, sports injuries, and coming home with road rash or leaves in my hair. My mother finally decided to enroll me in etiquette school for three semesters. It was a course called “Girl In The Mirror.” Ironically, despite my intense recklessness, I was the teacher’s favorite. Nonetheless, even with these three semesters, I didn’t fully embrace my femininity on my own until I started shopping in Manhattan in middle school.
During childhood, I always knew I was an old soul, and that made me feel a little lonely within my age group. I couldn’t always relate to kids my age. However, it also meant having intuition and grit beyond my years. When I was little, I felt in my soul that big things were coming my way. I used to have such intense phases of déjà vu; moments that I had dreamt about would later occur. Therefore, I knew from a young age that my dreams weren’t always just dreams; sometimes they were omens of things to come, positive or negative. My dreams have been so intense my whole life that my mother encouraged me to start a dream journal. So I started jotting down my dreams, even in elementary. You can learn a lot about yourself from your dreams.
But yeah, I was also your typical kid who gravitated to cloud watching, drew on the sidewalk with rainbow chalk, skipped rocks, collected knickknacks, and played outside in nature. I loved video games, learning games, and sports competition. I liked playing music and lighting candles in the dark during rainstorms. Or making zucchini bread from the vegetables we grew in the garden. I’ve been collecting things like geodes and rocks since I was a child. Riding bikes, riding horses, and playing with her friends. I loved Halloween, Valentine’s Day, and Christmas! I looked forward to all the changes in the four seasons every year. Furthermore, I loved traveling and recall my first trip to a foreign country, which was Italy. I recall all the talent shows and fashion shows. The Spooky Cooky Carnival at Locke Hill, or my elementary birthday gatherings at Six Flags. I remember my first research paper in the second grade about Ramses the Great, which my father helped me research at the library and put together.
In many ways, I’m still the same jubilant, playful kid (personality-wise). Yet I now have the wisdom, ferocity, and experience to know how to protect myself. We can’t walk through all of life with childlike wonder. There are predators that will take advantage of such kindness or assume you are daft for being playful. Basically, I’ve always had a great deal of compassion and light in my essence. And I fought hard to hold on to that; so many adults lose that… At the end of the day, though, we are all just little kids who grew into bigger bodies. Which is why it’s important to learn emotional maturity, because that is something we are not taught in schools.
This story was originally published in Voyage Austin.
