NPD Theater - The Young Actor | Act I

Part 1: Past Success

On the outskirts of a wilderness town, there was a wooden theater.
My father and mother performed a two-person play. The title was "A Woman's Happiness."
When my mother stood on stage, the applause lasted a long time.
Supporting a husband, bearing a child, protecting the home—it was just a story about that.
Watching from the wings, my mother's back seemed to melt into the stage lights.

Part 2: Mother's Disappearance

After rehearsals, my mother would hold the script and talk to my father about something.
The words "a woman's freedom" leaked through the gap in the curtain.
A few days later, the script was revised, and a new scene was added.
The applause grew shorter, and the familiar faces in the audience disappeared.
The following week, the script was returned to its original state, and my mother vanished.
On the vanity, her costume and script were folded neatly.
The chair was waiting for the next person.

Part 3: The Daughter's Casting

My father called me to the wings.
He handed me a thick script. On the cover, in my father's handwriting, was "A Woman's Happiness."
He only said, "You can do it."

I stepped out from the shadows of the wings.
The light stung my eyes, and the audience blurred.
I took a breath and searched for the words.
And then, sand danced across the stage.

Commentary

"A Woman's Happiness" was a script that reflected the common sense of the public—the audience—and my father's ideal self. My mother tried to incorporate "a woman's freedom" into it to expand the story, but she faced backlash from the conservative audience and left the stage. That revision was short-lived, but its traces were quietly carved into the young actor's heart, still covered in sand. The script does not change—it was just that performing it was her only choice.

Afterword

In this NPD Theater series, I repeatedly depict "sand." This "sand" is a symbol of the unceasing restlessness that people with NPD (Narcissistic Personality Disorder) carry. People with NPD are constantly hyper-vigilant and excessively defensive. This is because they feel that if the stage of their ideal self were to crumble even slightly, their very existence would be in jeopardy. That instability is like sand that clings to you no matter how much you brush it off. The motif of "sand" embodies this state of endless tension and defense.