For all you performers out there, you know the feeling I’m talking about. The rush to the head, stomach dropping feeling that you can never get enough of.
For some, performing on a stage is terrifying. The feeling of nervousness consumes them, and to them, the feeling is an overwhelming stage of nausea. However, nausea is far, far from the thrill I’m referring to.
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As a performer, I’m used to the process. Fast-paced rehearsals, long hours, and buckets of sweat - factors that don’t even tend to faze me anymore. I’ve developed a comfortability on stage. I’ve made it my home.
However, the one thing I will never get used to, is the rush of performing. Each show, no matter how many times I’ve previously performed it, I get a feeling of exhilaration - one that many may associate with addiction. But that’s what it is, an addiction to the cheers, the laughs, and the immense feeling of pride you feel toward your fellow cast mates.
The first moment you step on stage and see the audience, is the moment the rush hits you at its high. A wave of excitement drowns out any fear of failure. It’s just you and the stage and the audience. A weird love triangle you never want to get out of.
As you make your way through the performance, you begin to build off the reactions of the audience. If they laugh, you swell with pride. If they cry with you, you feel a deeper connection - a wider range of emotions that cause you to envelop your character even more. And in the off chance you receive no reactions from anyone, your spirits fall. You fall out of character, and the thrill is gone.
But let’s get back to the thrill…
There’s a reason performers are often referred to as ‘divas’. Divas are the individuals who got hooked on the high of performance - the ones that can’t live without it. Like those who get hooked on substances, they’re hooked on the emotions and the reactions the audience presents. They’re stuck on the feeling of infiniteness.
And as incredible and thrilling the feeling of actually performing may be, there is nothing quite as fulfilling as the feeling you get when you take that final bow.
The sound of an audience appreciating and acknowledging your hard work is priceless.
I’ve performed for a crowd of 600 people, and I’ve performed for a crowd of 30 people, and let me tell you - that feeling never changes, and it certainly never gets old.