thinking out loud: stage fright
I have been pondering stage fright lately. As a dancer, performer I know stage fright well. When I was still performing on stages, craving the spotlight, innocent and oblivious to the jolting forces of being seen, I would always get stage fright. It’s part of the deal and actually necessary. It gets that adrenaline pumping needed to make you perform at your best, hopefully. High alert, high focus, high presence. Intensity. Stage fright can actually be quite exciting if it’s not so much that it paralyzes. Because that can happen too.
We associate stage fright with performing in one way or the other, with stepping onto a stage. But I haven’t been performing on an actual stage since 2016 maybe and I experienced stage fright anyway. Wait, since 2016? Wow. That’s five years. I have never done the math until just now and I am a bit shocked, but okay - back to the subject. So, apparently, I haven’t been on an actual stage for five years but I have experienced stage fright nevertheless and I am sure so have you. You don’t need to be a performer or actor or public speaker to experience stage fright. I feel versions of it anytime I step into some sort of spotlight. That can be when I am about to tell a story at a dinner table, all eyes and ears on me, or introducing myself to a new group, or meeting someone for the first time. It doesn’t even matter if that person is male or female, a client or a new creative networking buddy.
So what is this social stage fright thing?
On an actual stage, I am about to perform. Interestingly the level of my stage fright is exponential to the level of how much my performance has been choreographed and set beforehand. The less a performance is manufactured, the more what I am about to perform is “freestyle”, improvisation and intuitive movements the less I feel stage-fright but thrilling excitement.
Is that the same for social stage fright? Maybe. The more I know a person, the deeper I connect with them, the less they and I feel a need to perform an act, the less nervous I am. Intimacy begins where performance ends and intimacy, to me anyway, is the antidote to stage fright.
But just like I actually enjoy the rush of nervous excitement when stepping onto a stage, I also really dig the thrill of meeting someone for the first time. I love the tension I feel when I’m leaving my comfort zone. I seek it out. That condensed intensity of two people wanting to impress the other. It’s pure sexual energy.
And when this psychological dance happens intuitively it is the best feeling. I think the bad kind of stage fright happens when I feel I need to fulfill some kind of pre-conceived expectation of who and how I am. It kills all creativity and flow and that makes me falter.
When I did my dance program last fall I took away one realization: following external scripts and other people’s choreographies is not my thing. In terms of life, I have known this for years. It is one of the reasons I left film production and got into sex work and even more so the reason I actually stayed and thrived. My life has always been about cutting out noise to tune into my own rhythm and figuring out how to dance to it successfully. So this is no news to me. But I keep learning just how radically this applies to literally everything. Even actual dance and art. And socializing. As soon as something isn’t authentically me I get anxious, loose my vibe, don’t thrive, and often fail and look stupid. On the flip side, anything I do that aligns with who I am at the core flourishes and all the doors swing open immediately.
So how does all this relate to stage fright then? What is stage fright? Is it anxiety that pops up when we perform? Is it anxiety that pops up when we perform when really we shouldn’t? Or is it not anxiety but rather heightened excitement that comes rushing when we are about to show ourselves. When we are about to step into the light and be vulnerable for the world to see and judge? Adrenaline that helps us push through the fear of leaping into an act of bravery and direct all our energy on doing the best we can.
In German stage fright is called Lampenfieber, which translates to Light-Fever. Fever from being seen.
Thinking back to my performances (on and off stage) I think stage fright may also be closely linked to perfectionism. Wanting to be seen but wanting to appear perfect at the same is what every performer strives for but it’s a doomed endeavor. Showing yourself equals vulnerability and vulnerability can never equal perfection. It’s in opposition. No wonder we get sick and feverish at the attempt of trying anyway.
So maybe stage fright is our body yelling at us “Danger! Danger! What you’re trying is ludicrous!!! But guess you’re going for it anyway, okay then, here’s all the adrenaline, good luck!” And so we leap forward, despite rationality and common sense, and jump anyway. And just hope we won’t crash, but fly for a while.
- Sofia