The Performance Identity Exercise

Performance anxiety can happen to anyone.

It might show up as a little extra adrenaline before a meeting or a full-blown panic attack before stepping on stage. Most of us have experienced some version of it.

I’ve performed since I was young, playing shows for two people in the audience and for hundreds. No matter the crowd size, I’ve felt the nerves before walking on stage. Over time, I developed a practice that completely changed the way I approached performing.

Before a show, I would stand in front of the mirror and intentionally step into the version of myself I wanted to be for that performance. Some artists create a stage persona to separate themselves from who they are offstage. While I’m not suggesting you become someone else, I do believe it can be powerful to intentionally embody the most confident, prepared version of yourself.

When we’re anxious, our brain wants to convince us that we’re unprepared, not good enough, or that we’re going to mess up. This exercise helps interrupt that story and replace it with one that’s grounded in truth.

Stand in front of the mirror and repeat affirmations in the present tense using “I” statements. For example, if you’re preparing for an important presentation, you might say:

  • “I know this material because I’ve prepared for it.”
  • “I am confident, capable, and I trust myself.”
  • “I can stay calm under pressure.”
  • “I don’t have to be perfect to make an impact.”
  • “I have something valuable to share.”

It may feel awkward at first, but that’s okay. The goal isn’t to convince yourself overnight, it’s to begin reinforcing a different belief system. If you practice this for a few days leading up to your performance, meeting, presentation, or difficult conversation, you’ll often notice your confidence growing before you ever step into the room.

 

Practice Before the Performance

One of my favorite things to do with clients is become their audience.

Performance anxiety often lessens through safe, repeated exposure. In our sessions, I’ll ask clients to perform the very thing they’re afraid of: sing the song, give the presentation, practice the speech, or read the lyrics out loud. Together, we create a space where making mistakes is expected and welcomed.

Each time you practice in front of another person, you’re teaching your nervous system that being seen is safe. By the time the real performance arrives, it isn’t the first time you’ve done it, it’s simply another repetition.

Confidence rarely comes from waiting until you feel fearless. More often, it comes from practicing until your mind and body begin to believe, “I’ve done this before. I can do it again”.

 

THE CONTENT OF THIS BLOG IS FOR EDUCATIONAL PURPOSES ONLY. IT IS NOT A SUBSTITUTE FOR A THERAPEUTIC RELATIONSHIP.

 


If you’d like to kick performance anxiety to the curb, Caroline has a wealth of lived experience and coaching tools to help you show up as your best self when it matters most.

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Begin Again

What do you think can shift if, instead of feeling like you are on a high-speed train of new world events happening to you, you could take the reins and harness the goodness of novelty for your own well-being?

I recently read an article in Psychology Today about just that.

“Psychology and neuroscience both make it clear that novel experiences help us to stay sharp, adapt to change, manage stress, connect with others — the list goes on. The human brain is a dynamic, powerful organ, primed to respond to novelty.”

 

I think there is an important calling here when we live in what seems to be increasingly unprecedented times. The thought would be to shelter in place, to remain grounded — fair and valid to a point. But removing self-selected novelty from our lives robs us of neuroplasticity, purpose, and even the relief from boredom. So what are some ways that we can shift from change happening to us to engaging in change in a meaningful way?

Here are three points I took away from the Psychology Today contributors:

 

1. Be proud to be a beginner

When starting something new, own it. There’s a natural tendency to want to be unnoticed (even invisible) when working through something new, but this is counterproductive to both growth and the energy that comes from connecting with others over shared novelty. Think about it: being a beginner is such an easy opening for connection. A shared interest gives you common ground, people love to feel heard and included, and it’s a low-stakes place to practice vulnerability. Beyond that, struggling through the early stages of learning in isolation makes it far more likely you’ll abandon the pursuit well before the real rewards of new learning set in.

When I was traveling for work, one of my favorite ways to introduce myself was, “Hey, I’m new to the city, what should I be checking out?” It almost always sparked an engaging conversation; honestly, it worked nine times out of ten. But it required being proud of being new in order to let someone guide me. What it signaled to others was a willingness to be open and vulnerable about my lack of knowledge, and that in itself created an environment where vulnerability felt okay or better yet, something to be proud of.

 

2. Limit low-quality learning

I really liked this point from the article. It called out most of our tendencies to think, “Oh, if I just watch a short video, I should be able to learn it perfectly.” This robs us of the richness of finding passion, getting into it, celebrating our newbie gains, and being able to hardwire the learning into our brains. You can’t learn how to ride a motorcycle without getting on a bike. You just can’t. You are required to experience the falls, the mishaps, and the achievements in order to make the pursuit a success.

I think about how each Saturday night in the summers, there is a whole group of motorcycle newbies that show up to a local empty parking lot by my house — my three-year-old loves to go watch. What strikes me as so cool about it is that these people are practicing sharp turns and navigating their huge Harleys in real time, with other people watching, physically participating in the act of learning. I would bet a lot of money that in those moments, the riders are strictly thinking about this newfound passion and not letting their minds wander to something trivial. That has to be such a satisfying feeling once they are done. Yes, they fall — and those huge bikes fall over too — but they get right back up and try again. This is not low-quality learning.

So when trying out something new, the way that you learn it matters. Are you even allowing yourself to go all in, or are you watching a video or two, giving it a C+ effort, then moving on thinking that you failed? 

 

3. Lower the stakes

The fun of learning something new will wear off quickly if you are too hard on yourself. In the medical and educational community, there is something called the “just right challenge” — that is where you find yourself in a place where you must remain engaged to master the skill, however the difficulty level is not so much that you don’t have the foundational skills to get there. If you are able to be honest with yourself, and you are proud of being a newbie, then you can find the just right challenge as a starting point. If your floor is “I know nothing” — great! That is where you begin. But don’t go into novel tasks 1. expecting yourself to be an expert, and 2. expecting that you are going to get it immediately. Going into novelty with an experimenter’s mindset can be helpful. You can recognize that you are curious (this helps you to stay engaged) but that you are no expert (i.e. you are willing to learn through “failed experiments”).

Desensitize yourself from the end result. Think more about the process and what it is giving you. Losing yourself in a task often happens when you are in novel situations. This mental flexibility also seeps into other aspects of your life, allowing you to be more flexible, resilient, and mentally agile. When you lower the stakes, focus on the process more than the result, you are ultimately giving yourself the benefits of the full learner’s journey. 

The best way to end is what I first read from the article: “Feeling depressed, anxious, or bored? Looking for new friends? Coping with loss, healing from a breakup or searching for your life’s purpose? Look for solutions to these disparate problems and you’re likely to see one suggestion appear again and again: Try something new.”

 

THE CONTENT OF THIS BLOG IS FOR EDUCATIONAL PURPOSES ONLY. IT IS NOT A SUBSTITUTE FOR A THERAPEUTIC RELATIONSHIP.

Navigating Your 20s

Your 20s are a time of exploration, transition, and growth.

This decade often brings major shifts in your career, friendships, identity, and relationships. It is when you begin discovering who you are, what you want, and how you are going to get there. And with that can come a lot of pressure.

Questions like, What should I do with my life? Who will I end up with? What should I achieve by 30? tend to feel louder during this time.

While high school and college can be transformational, the real transformation often begins once those structured environments fall away. Without built in systems or clear next steps, you are suddenly responsible for shaping a life that feels aligned with you.

If you feel uncertain, overwhelmed, or like you are behind, you are not. You are in it.

A supportive guide during this decade is not about having all the answers. It is about building clarity, emotional resilience, and alignment in a chapter that can feel nonlinear and, at times, confusing.

Here are a few ways you can begin supporting yourself through it:

 

First, get to know yourself. Your 20s are for learning who you are when no one is scripting it for you. Explore what excites you without judgment. Pay attention to what drains you versus what energizes you. Spend time alone and reflect often.

Second, build emotional skills, not just career goals. Success is not only about what you achieve. It is about how you move through your life. Learn to regulate before reacting. Notice your triggers. Practice expressing what you need, even when it feels uncomfortable.

Third, make peace with uncertainty. Your 20s are supposed to feel messy. What if feeling stuck is actually an invitation to get curious instead of panicking? There is something powerful about being untethered. It creates space for possibility, even if it does not feel like it at first.

Fourth, choose people who choose you. Relationships will shift, and that is okay. Focus less on forever and more on what feels healthy right now. Choose connection, reciprocity, and people you feel safe being yourself around.

Fifth, take small action toward what matters. You do not need a full plan, just the next step. Small actions build momentum and confidence. Whether it is applying for one job, trying a new class, or reaching out to someone new, these moments matter more than you think.

Finally, redefine success often. Success in your 20s is not about proving something. It is about becoming someone. Your path will not look like anyone else’s, and that is the point. Alignment matters more than appearance.

 

THE CONTENT OF THIS BLOG IS FOR EDUCATIONAL PURPOSES ONLY. IT IS NOT A SUBSTITUTE FOR A THERAPEUTIC RELATIONSHIP.

If you want help navigating your 20s like a pro, book with Caroline.

Caroline is offering a special introductory rate of $65 per session.

A Tiny Experiment: Moments of Quiet

I’m back with week three of my tiny experiment – writing about one thing each week that inspires me. Writing from my heart and my gut, and without using the help of ChatGPT. This isn’t anything against AI, it’s so helpful, but I want to commit to practicing using only my brain without the help of our lovely robot overlords. 

I have to say, I’ve been enjoying this tiny experiment, and so far it’s been a beneficial practice in letting my thoughts flow authentically. I had no idea what I was going to write until about five minutes ago, and loosening a tight grip of control on a very scheduled life feels like liberation. For now, I’m going to keep it up. 

This week I was inspired by silence. By not only a few intentional moments of quiet where I could really tune into myself and connect to something larger; but also those gaps between questions asked to my clients that may feel awkward for a moment, but often result in a robust insight versus a rushed answer. There were a few times driving my car this week where I didn’t listen to music, the news, or a podcast, and simply just noticed the ambient air around me. I noticed what it felt like not to have my brain working for a few minutes – it sort of felt like floating on your back with your ears under water, where you feel completely, if only momentarily, immune from the chaos happening above the water. It felt freeing. 

I experienced a different type of noise cancellation today after I realized I was fresh out of contact lenses, only for my left eye somehow, which has a drastically worse prescription than my right. So, I popped on my glasses, which is great, but not so great for doing hot yoga where they slip right off. Without any corrective lenses I am pretty much limited to seeing blobs of people and objects that are any further than 3 feet away from me. I was forced to focus only on what was within the perimeter of my mat. Without being able to compare myself to others (am I doing this right? Should I do what that person is doing? I’ll never be able to do a headstand…) look to the teacher to see what was the “right” pose, I was able to follow along but do my own thing. This meant really tuning out of my head, tuning into my body, and moving however I felt aligned in that moment. The noise cancellation of unconscious comparison and self criticism was a heavenly sensation that I can only describe as feeling like home. There are so many lessons to glean from the power of silence, and it’s another practice I want to intentionally commit to. Maybe another tiny experiment to add to the list.  When we went into savasana at the end of the hour, the instructor reminded us that this moment of stillness and quiet is what the practice led up to for the entire hour, and if you skip it, you’re sort of missing the point. Quiet isn’t the end of the story, it’s the climax.   

 

THE CONTENT OF THIS BLOG IS FOR EDUCATIONAL PURPOSES ONLY. IT IS NOT A SUBSTITUTE FOR A THERAPEUTIC RELATIONSHIP.