Adult Non-Fiction

After such success in early life, do they later grapple with the cold, hard reality that true fulfilment has to be an inside job?

While she can't speak for all former child actors, Rachel can attest that in her experience, she has ticked off every cliched box on the list and then some.

Read on to find out more...

Have you ever wondered what becomes of child actors?

Is it true that they're fated to go off the rails?

Peter Pan

How My Sweet Tooth Took Me To Neverland

If you’re reading this, the chances are it’s cos you saw the 2003 film ‘Peter Pan’ in which I played Wendy. That film came out twenty years ago and is still my most noted professional achievement to date. Guess I peaked aged twelve.

If you ever wondered how a shy, jug-eared schoolgirl with no acting experience could land a lead role in a film – it was thanks to my sweet tooth. My mum heard about an open-call casting in Birmingham for a new Peter Pan film and noted her daughter fit the bill – height and general vibe-wise. I’d never been into performing, but like a Pied Piper, my mum knew she could entice me by combining it with a trip to the Cadbury’s Factory there. It will be fun, she said. When the film comes out, you can tell your friends you auditioned for it, she said. There will be Twirls and Freddos, she said.

Imagine my disappointment when we ended up on a train to London, where the closer casting session was. A series of recalls and screen-test in Australia later, I was offered the part. This meant two things; one, I’d miss the guts of Year 8 (up yours, maths lessons) and two, endless trips to the dentist – the film’s producers explained that there was, of course, nothing wrong with my wonky smile, but I had to get it temporarily veneered or they’d recast the role.

Freshly decked out with sparkly-white, perfectly aligned but absurdly massive teef, my family and I upped sticks to Australia’s Gold Coast. My younger brother Patrick was enrolled in a local school, my parents took turns in chaperoning me on set and domesticity Down Under.

Filming took nine long months, in which I learned how to find the mark, memorise lines, take direction, get my jug-ears pinned back with prosthetic glue and subject myself to mental torture to produce real tears for emotional scenes. Alongside the other child actors, I spent hours hoisted in mid-air in thigh-biting harnesses ‘flying’ in front of a blue-screen, learning the 101’s of fencing and attending tutoring when not required on set (even Australia’s finest private tutors couldn’t drill long division into my number-phobic brain).

During lunchtime, you’d find pirates in the catering tent stuffing down gargantuan plates of BBQ’d meat and mermaids spending upwards of six hours in the makeup chair getting their tails on (not a metaphor). There was the foot-scented Lost Boys’ Green Room in which various kids could be found playing Tekken or Burnout on the Playstation. There was my first ever kiss with The Boy Who Wouldn’t Grow Up, on camera, accompanied by array of film crew.

I lived for the evenings where Carsen, the film’s Tigerlily, and I would muck about in the hotel’s open-air swimming pool until our parents summoned us for bedtime. And keeping up with my friends back home in England on MSN Messenger, G2Gs, !!!!!1!s and all. Once the film wrapped, off came the veneers and it was back to my old school for the end of summer term. Everything was pretty much the same except now, my newfound agent insisted, I was an actress.

For years after, I strove to balance studies and being a teenager with the sought-after career that had landed in my lap. Getting chosen to star in a huge blockbuster at such a young age had a profound impact on the trajectory of my life – both great and not-so-great. After my stint in Neverland, professional doors were kicked open, I got to travel the world, go to glamorous events and flirt with fame. But, as is the cautionary tale with early success, things slowly unravelled until life was less thimbles and fairy dust, more bloated, hungover nihilism. Thankfully I’ve since settled into being a sober, steady(ish), happily married mum of two, chasing my dream of being a children’s book author. Wendy would be proud.

Last year, a new version of the film came out. Watching it brought up bittersweet nostalgia and pride at being a Neverland alumni. There is a new iteration of the J.M. Barrie legacy, the torch has been well and truly passed on. Ever Anderson brought a beautifully fresh approach to her Wendy, one of strength and grace. I follow her on Instagram and marvel at her model-esque, couture-drenched posts. When I did promotional work *old person voice* back in the day, I pitched up to photoshoots in patchy jeans and Billabong hoodies, patting myself on the back if I’d taken a brush to the birds-nest on my head.

Of the OG PP cast, some of us are now parents, some of us still acting while others left it behind long ago. One thing’s for sure – we have all grown up. I’m still in touch with the earth-mama, musical powerhouse that is Carsen – we no longer get to chase each other around pools, but settle for ‘liking’ each other’s Insta posts and occasional DM’s.

Looking back, I’m grateful to have been part of something that touched the lives of so many people. Something that hopefully brought them comfort, escapism and maybe even a little bit of magic. I might show my own children my Peter Pan at some point, when they’re old enough.

But – above all – I’m gutted I never got that day of Dairy Milk.

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