Attention All Artists: Each & Every One Of Us Has Insecurities. You're Not Alone.

The day that I am writing this blog is October 10th, 2019. I just returned from a visit to Salem, Massachusetts, where I spent roughly four days with my partner, Seth. Our days consisted of the usual touristy activities that you would find in Salem, but our evenings did not. Our very first night, we went to a place called Bit Bar for dinner, and we fell so in love with it that we went there every night of our stay.

But do not mistake me: this post is not about Salem or even really about Bit Bar (that will be in a later blog). Rather, this post is about something that happened at Bit Bar that has really changed my recent perspective and that has, for lack of a kinder term, lit a fire under my ass.

Wednesday night at Bit Bar was karaoke night, which I was absolutely thrilled for, but as the time for karaoke grew closer, I began to feel very nervous. So nervous, as a matter of fact, that I almost decided not to sing. “Why would a musical theatre actress be nervous to sing karaoke”, you may ask? Well here’s the answer:

I haven’t felt good, secure, proud of, or really any other good adjective you can come up with about my work as a performer in years. Probably 90% of my four years of college, I was in a constant state of feeling like I could be worlds better than I was. There’s only a handful of times that I can remember feeling amazing about my work as a performer, and those are when I took Acting I with Lauren Bone Noble, Musical Theatre Workshop I with Katya Stanislavskya, Dance for Musical Theatre with Carmen Smith, and when I was a swing in Oklahoma! directed by Joe Langworth. Some days I include my work in Into the Woods directed by Catherine Doherty, and other days I don’t. Six out of my eight college auditions I felt were absolutely awful. I felt underprepared and like an all around amateur (often times, even less than that). Dozens of other classes I took, I felt disconnected to the work, underprepared, and stuck, like I was never going to improve my acting. On top of that, I always had this suspicion that most of my professors didn’t think I was talented enough to make it in this business (a thought that I probably devised myself, being my own worst critic).

A lot of these feelings, especially the ones of being underprepared, stemmed from the fact that I constantly kept myself busy. I took lots of classes (I was a double major, the other major being Spanish), I worked at the gym teaching yoga, I was on three E-Boards my senior year, and I also got myself involved in hair & makeup. When it came to homework for performance classes and preparing for auditions, I had already spread myself thin enough: giving my all to my acting work was not an option. Don’t get me wrong, I did my homework: I showed up to class practiced, memorized, and ready to perform, but I never felt like I had done enough (except in the instances listed above).

There were other girls in my department who had started at the same time as me, who could play similar roles as me, and who were cast in a show every single semester. Many of my peers in the department praised them for their talent (for good reason, they are amazing performers through and through) and I cannot recall a time where I was. * Before continuing, I would like to clarify that I do not feel any ill way towards these girls, I simply allowed my admiration to turn into jealousy, which is completely on me * This led to me comparing myself to them and ultimately feeling like I must not be a good performer. This made me want to be better and try harder some days, and others, it made me want to curl up on the couch and feel sorry for myself.

I started to feel better about choosing a career in musical theatre after I graduated college and started going to auditions. I felt my “audition muscle” getting stronger, which ultimately led to stronger, more confident auditions. But soon later, a few bad auditions and a new move led me to feeling in a slump and questioning myself all over again. After all, people I know who are still in college have had professional gigs at regional theaters and what have I done? Hardly anything.

Fast forward to last night at Bit Bar. I was super nervous to sing karaoke. I was afraid that I was going to mess up, sound too nasally, or just annoy everyone with my voice. Seth tells me all the time (as well as some friends and family) that I have a great voice, and when I’m in a good place of self esteem, I believe him. Other times, I don’t. Seth made it clear to me that night that he was okay with whatever I did. Just because we specifically went for karaoke night, I didn’t have to sing if I didn’t want to.

But I did want to sing! I hadn’t sang karaoke in so long and I missed how fun it was. I also knew that I was never going to feel better about my performing if I avoided it. And I really want to be a performer. I’ve dreamed of it ever since I was a little girl.

So I gave myself a pep talk. These are the things I told myself to work up the courage to sing:

-Even people who aren’t good singers sing karaoke, so if I sound bad, no one will know the difference.

-No one here knows me, so if I sound bad, it doesn’t matter what they think of me; I’ll never see them again.

-Practicing vulnerability is a great tool to strengthen my performance skills.

-I want to be a performer, so why not start fresh now? It’s just karaoke, where’s the risk in that?

So I sang. The guy hosting karaoke, Nick, got people to start singing by creating a song category of “rain” (the weather was subpar that night). I decided to sing “Don’t Rain On My Parade” from Funny Girl, not expecting it to be anything spectacular, but not caring because I knew I was going to have fun doing it. However, as I started singing the song, I realized that I actually sounded really good. So I kept rocking out. When I was finished, Nick told me that I killed it. Seth told me that I killed it. Lots of other people did too. I thanked them, feeling good, but I also thought “well, they’re not MT people, so they probably think I was better than I actually was”. Nevertheless, I felt warm and fuzzy inside, so I decided to sing some more.

I went up to Nick because I noticed that he had some songs from The Last Five Years , which is one of my favorite musicals. I was astounded to find out that not only does he know that show well, but he recently was the music director for a production in Massachusetts! Him and his friends were all musical theatre people. Suddenly, their compliments towards me meant so much more.

He convinced me to sing Climbing Uphill. When I was finished, he told me that if he could, he would cast me as Cathy in a production of The Last Five Years. I was so honored, because I knew he really meant it. As my confidence went up that night, so did my performance skills. I was on fire.

Later, we got talking about all things musical theatre and he asked me if I was auditioning for Broadway. I told him about some of my trials and tribulations, and he told me that I needed to keep chugging along because I’m really talented and I belong on Broadway. I could literally cry while writing this because it touches my heart so much. With all the wonderful things he and his friends said to me, I sometimes thought “he can’t really mean all of this, I wasn’t as spectacular as he says”. But he made it clear to me that he was dead serious. Seth and I left that night and all I could talk about in the car were audition materials I was going to work on and calls I was going to go to. I was instantly out of my slump.

So why am I telling you all of this? For attention? So you’ll shower me with comments of how amazing of a performer I am just so my ego can be fed? To make myself feel good by publicly announcing that I’m a good singer? No. I’m hoping that sharing my insecurities will bring you some peace for your own. Because here’s the thing: I realized that night that I always knew my talent and my contribution to the theatre world, but my circumstances kept pushing me down. I kept pushing me down. I think I wanted people to notice me and think that I was talented so that they could convince me of that when I was feeling low. I wanted people to build me up the same way they built others. I didn’t want to feel overlooked anymore. However, instead of trying even harder to rise to my own standards, I allowed myself to be defeated for a while.

I realized that night that I was deep inside my head, thinking too much about if I was performing well instead of doing my best to be truthful in my performance. Instead of allowing myself to have fun while performing, I allowed it to be a stressful competition. I allowed myself to be hyper aware of when I was in an audition room and I allowed that to affect my performance negatively. I let myself be my own worst enemy. But at karaoke night, it wasn’t a competition anymore, it wasn’t an audition, and it wasn’t college. So I was able to relax. And once I relaxed and trusted in myself, the amazing performer in me came out. And then I realized that she was there all along, but I was the one suffocating her. Furthermore, it’s only now that I’m writing this that I realize I’ve had people rooting me on, believing in me, and telling me I can do this all along. I had just silenced them.

To conclude this letter, I’m going to let you in on a secret: I’m not the only one who feels this way. All artists experience insecurities. Perhaps not in the same way that I do, but all artists of all practices have experienced not feeling good enough. They’re lying if they say they haven’t. However, they became successful because they worked towards their dreams despite their fear and negative feelings. And that’s what I intend to do too. Because here’s the thing: there are going to be ups and downs all throughout your life, but especially in your career. The downs will sometimes feel like hell, but the ups will rejuvenate you and make you feel readier than ever to tackle your dreams. The highs don’t have to be a Broadway gig or a daytime talk show. Sometimes they’re just a successful night of karaoke to remind you that you have something to contribute to this crazy business. Just because you don’t feel good enough one day doesn’t mean you’ll always feel that way. Those highs are there to continue carrying you further. Additionally, just because you think something, doesn’t mean it’s true. Our brains are complex beings that sometimes lie straight to our faces! So please, I beg you, don’t give up. You deserve to have your dream!

On a slightly different note, Nick and I are Facebook friends now. By putting myself out there and singing, not only was I told that I’m going to kill it in this business, but I made a new friend along the way. By Nick approaching me and telling me his appreciation for my work, I was able to give myself the courage to believe in myself again.

I hope this story inspires you to keep working towards your goals and to also use kind and uplifting words to others. You never know when they may really need it. Thank you so much for reading!

Chelsea <3