Stage Fright

I am terrifed of being in the limelight.  Shy and overweight as a child, I was petrified of people noticing me.  I did not know how to make conversation with strangers.

As a teenager, I found friends who didn't care how I looked.  So I didn't care how I looked.  Which was another way of saying I didn't like the way I looked, but didn't do much about it.

Suddenly all these years later, I find myself caring how I look... and liking the way I look. Taking a little trouble over it. Having a good feeling about myself when I look in the mirror.

Interestingly, what brought this change about has been, I think, largely, the stage.  I write, direct and produce plays. For a living, for the living.  Sometimes the living die when they see my plays.  Die laughing, die of boredom.  It's all very relative - what people find funny.  You might find this all very tedious, for example.

Point is, the first time I walked on stage in a dress and high heels, and the guys looked up and smiled, I knew that I was a phony.  That I actually enjoyed the limelight all along... I just felt undeserving earlier.  Now I knew that it was me. 

It felt great.  Plus I had lost weight, gained confidence, and what I was saying was stuff I had written.  And people were laughing...and more importantly, listening.  And applauding.  They were connecting. 

I realized then I was just one of them. One of y'all.  And yet I was standing out.

And it felt good.

All those of you who suffer from stage fright... remember, that's a good sign.  The very fact that you are near enough the stage to get stage fright suggests the stage is where you belong... on it, behind it, near it... but somewhere there, in the vicinity of the arc lights.

So don't go turning them off...