But the truth is far less interesting than any of these explanations. The truth is, I thought I wanted something, but it turns out I didn’t. End of story. I wanted the reward and not the struggle. I wanted the result and not the process. I was in love with not the fight but only the victory.

Even though it was enormously successful, there was no growth going on at all. They were very hard years to get through, to find any sense of purpose. I wasn't allowing myself the service of being who I really am as an artist. I'd given myself dreadful parameters in confining myself to merely what I presumed people wanted.
I never wanted to do this. I never wanted to be out there pleasing people. I wanted to be really stubborn and have people like what I like, not give them what they like.

I wanted the reward and not the struggle. I wanted the result and not the process. I was in love with not the fight but only the victory.
And life doesn’t work that way.
Who you are is defined by what you're willing to struggle for. […] Our struggles determine our successes.

I wanted the reward and not the struggle. I wanted the result and not the process. I was in love not with the fight but only the victory.
And life doesn't work that way.

It was terribly difficult. It's not something I ever wanted in my life. Naively I just thought, 'oh I've got this great part'. I never thought about the reality of all the stuff that went with it. I'm actually quite a shy person when I'm not on stage.

Like all the other things I’d agonized over, the process of making the decision took more time and energy — and was more painful and scary — than the result.

It doesn't make sense to continue wanting something if you're not willing to do what it takes to get it.

If you don't want to live the lifestyle, then release yourself from the desire. To crave the result but not the process, is to guarantee disappointment.

I don't know why I did it, I don't know why I enjoyed it, and I don't know why I'll do it again.

I wanted it so much. I don’t know why I wanted it so much.

It didn’t take me long to figure it out: I didn’t want to meet the Beatles. I wanted to BE the Beatles.

I don’t like doing something and later jump out of it. I take my time to do whatsoever I want to do making sure it is the right decision.

I love doing what I do, but I don't like seeing the finished product.

I really don't know why I clicked. I didn't want to be a dancer, I just did it to work my way through college. But I was always an athlete and gymnast, so it came naturally.

I'm going to tell you something: There's an element to that passion that I always leave out and that I have recently learned to understand, and it has helped me a lot. … I was okay if it didn't happen. … I didn't realize this before. As long as I knew I did my very, very best, I was okay. I was so okay that when I made the transition from Mexico to Los Angeles, I said to myself I have something now. Is it what I want? No. I was making money, I was an actress, and I was famous. It looked like it's what I wanted, but it was not. And I was wise enough to recognize it. It's what others would think that I'd want, and sometimes that makes you feel it's good enough... To be able to brag a lot on life — that's everybody's dream... But is it your dream? And it wasn't my dream. And so I said that I'm going to leave it. This means I go there, and maybe it doesn't happen. And I am trading this, which looks like it's great, for this nothing that could be anything. … And then I was excited about being brave about it and saying, "What I left didn't grab me by the balls."