Listen To Your Mother: I Came, I Saw, I Listened

I wavered between being excited about performing in Listen To Your Mother and just wanting the show to be over because the anticipation and subsequent anxiety was overshadowing my entire life.

Randy and I spent Saturday night in downtown Indianapolis. It’s prom season and as we walked around we got to see dozens and dozens of teens in formal wear. So, that was a pleasant distraction.

In an attempt to feel less like I was hours away from the gallows, I had an amazing Strawberry Fields martini at The Yard House.

I did learn that if I ever find myself in a ‘last meal’ type of situation, that strawberry martini would be an excellent choice. 

Concerned about my level of anxiety and so that I could relax the night before, my mountain friend sent my favorite bubble bath, Falling In Love. The bubble bath was heavenly.

feet

Worst case scenarios

As Randy and I sat in bed, he asked me to give him all the worst case performance scenarios.

Actually, my biggest fear was that the audience would sit and stare at me in stony silence, but I was afraid to speak that one out loud. 

So, here is what I came up with:

I would pee in my pants and become so overwrought over peeing my pants that I would run up and down the length of the stage while waving my arms about and I would accidentally pee on all the other performers. Apparently, in this scenario, I would have had to drink a gallon of water beforehand because I can’t imagine how my bladder could ever get that full.

Or, I could crap in my pants. Enough said.

Or, that Godzilla would crash through the auditorium, which would probably trigger both previous scenarios simultaneously.

I’m pretty sure Randy was sorry he even asked me for my worst case scenarios.

Performance day

Sunday morning, we found the auditorium with no trouble. The cast was scheduled to arrive hours before the first show for a sound check and pictures. I felt nervous, but still, the show was hours away.

Those hours slipped by quickly.

We lined up outside the stage in the order we were sitting. I really hoped the face sweat  wouldn’t be visible or cause all my makeup to run off my face and down between my cleavage in a multicolored torrent of salty water.

Anxiety overdrive

When I saw the crowd, my head actually swam a little. There was no way I could read in front of them. I wouldn’t make it. My voice would be a croak and I would probably just stand up there and sob.

To take a line right out of my essay:

Then something miraculous and unexpected happened. 

I walked to the podium and my nervousness just fell away.

When I opened my mouth to speak, my voice sounded strong and confident. I found that not only was I not nervous, I loved being up there.

I made a few mistakes, but I’m pretty sure I am the only one who noticed. Randy heard me rehearse so many times that he might have noticed the line that I skipped over, but I’m not sure.

I got strong laughter in all the places I expected to hear laughter and even in a few places that I didn’t. The feeling was indescribable. I felt confident. I felt like my performance and my words were exactly as they should be. This feeling is new to me as I usually spend my days second guessing myself and feeling like I’m failing.

I walked away and had to stifle the urge to pump my fist. I fucking nailed it.

You didn’t think this post was going to end on that high note though, did you?

Did I get to leave the stage after the first performance without an issue?

Fuck no. Because I am me, of course I couldn’t just feel good about my performance and let the rest of the show play out basking in my new found confidence.

I have asthma. My symptoms were much worse as a child and I rarely have any issues as an adult. When I do, I get a hacking, gagging, nasty cough that is so violent my face turns purple.

I guess it was the nerves.

The person after me was reading when I felt the tickle in my throat. Even though it’s been a few years, I knew that tickle signaled a coughing fit that would not be denied.

I tried quietly clearing my throat which took the tickle from insistent to moments before meltdown.

I slowly sipped water from a bottle and felt my throat expel the water back into my mouth and I knew I had to flee. My only choice was to get off the stage as quickly as possible.

Fortunately, I sat in the middle, but the chairs were in two sections and I was at the end of the first row. I was able to get out of my chair and duck behind the curtain.

I walked quickly to the door while actually gagging from forcing the cough to stay in my lungs.

The fucking door was locked.

I was goddamn trapped behind the curtain.

I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes and willed myself to take long slow breaths through the pinhole that was my throat. My eyes watered. All I could think was how stupid I felt for not wearing waterproof mascara.

I tried to hold back the cough, but the cough refused to be denied.

Three loud coughs and then more deep breathing. The raging cough settled back into my lungs and while my breath was wheezy, I was in control again. Mostly.

I waited for the next essay to end and when the audience started clapping, I slipped back into my seat.

After the show, I felt completely in control. I assured the director and producer that I was fine. They promised to make sure that door was unlocked if the coughing fit happened again during the evening show.

My mother and sister were at the first show and they loved it. Mom slipped me a cough drop for the next show while telling me that I was amazing and that I should quit my job and perform for a living. It’s possible I have the greatest mother on the planet.

meandmom

I put the cough drop down the front of my shirt and as we were being seated for the second show. I discreetly (hahaha) removed the cough drop and tried to remove the sticky wrapper which covered the slightly melted cough drop.

No way was I having a coughing meltdown during the second performance.

Anxiety, round two

I worried a bit that my first performance was a fluke and that during my second performance I’d accidentally start singing some Alanis Morissette songs or something.

Everything is going to be fine fine fiiiine…

But I didn’t. I felt like the second performance was even better than the first.

Then the next person started speaking and I felt the goddamn tickle again.

I took a big chug of water and told that bitch to back the fuck off. I must have really had my internal mom voice going because my throat loosened up and I managed to make it through the rest of the performance without running off the stage.

All in all, the Listen To Your Mother experience felt great.

The other speakers were amazing and I hated walking away from my new friends.

Both of my boys were there. Some of Randy’s family came and even an old friend from high school attended. I truly had an amazing experience and would love to do it again.

meandboys

I promise to post links when the video is up on the Listen To Your Mother youtube channel and then you guys can tell me how I great I was.

Hahaha.

If you do, you might trigger another asthmatic episode, so try to keep the praise to a minimum.

Also, do yourselves a favor and watch all the performances from the Indianapolis show when they are available. A M A Z I N G. I am so honored to be included with these talented writers and performers.

 

94 Thoughts.

  1. Yes you rock, I knew you would!
    🙂
    Pro tip, if you can get hold of Vocalzone pastilles in the US get some, they will knock the crap out of the cough, speakers and singers swear by them, I know I do.
    Go girl!

  2. I knew you would stomp them into the dirt!! And again, I still mean that in the nicest possible way…

  3. SO proud of you! I know that cough feeling, even though I don’t have asthma. ahmigash

    I have a severe fear/dislike of speaking publicly or being on any sort of stage, so I’d probably not have even been able to walk to the mike without passing out and requiring a stretcher. I almost fainted in front of our wedding…!

    And I LOVE that you nailed it. When you do something that you think will go wrong, and it not only goes wrong, but goes WELL? — Best. Feeling. Ever.

    *clinks strawberry martini glass*

  4. How did I miss that the show was in Indy??? Ugh! I would have LOVED to have gone to see it (I’m in the burbs just north of indy)! I’m gathering this was a one-time show? damn. damn. damn. damn. damn. 🙁

    So happy it all turned out well! Not so good about the coughing fit but sure makes for a funny story!! 😉 haha!

    • Yeah, it’s a one day show. 🙁 I am sorry you missed it. It really was a great show. I will post a link on youtube when it’s available. I’m not sure when that will be other than they said ‘this Summer’.

  5. So glad to hear that all went well!! I had seen bits and pieces on FB about the show and was nervous and excited for you. Sounds like a blast! I know that feeling of confidence that one does not expect when public speaking. I had to speak to an audience of 500 once and miraculously, my fear and nerves calmed down and I nailed it. I also enjoyed it. I can see how performing can be addictive. 🙂

    • Me too! I know my first thought after the second show was…DAMN…I hope this isn’t the last time I do this. Not coughing would be good, though.

  6. This is what I have been waiting to hear. I knew you would do well and you handled the “coughing spell” like a pro. Next step is to see you on YouTube. You are amazing! Your writing lets me be there with you. I thank you for this!

  7. You look so pretty! I’m so glad that things went so well for you! PS, I also had anxiety about having to pee in the middle of the show – I must have visited the ladies room four times in the hour prior to the show…just to be sure I was as empty as I could be.

  8. Wow, that’s so impressive! I would certainly die up there! Had to laugh at your worst case scenario of peeing everywhere because that’s my go to fear – not that I ever have; I’m completely house broken :p

  9. Congrats! I am so happy for you. You are so brave to get up on that stage. I can’t wait to see the YouTube clips!

  10. I really loved reading your LTYM story. We had to travel a little ways, too. I was afraid I would trip and fall, have to pee during the show or that my essay wouldn’t be in the show book. It all went fine and too fast and the relief that it was over was mixed with sadness that it was over. Such an awesome experience. Congrats to you!

    • It really was over too fast. And I had the tripping and falling fear as well. Which actually nearly happened but not during the show. We walked outside for photos and I stepped off the sidewalk and into some mulch and twisted my foot a little. And got mulch in my shoe.

      It was such a great experience! Congrats to you, too!

  11. Good for you! I think your mom is right and I haven’t even seen the video yet!!! Congrats and let this good feeling keep you floating for as long as you can!!!

    Jill

    • Oh man…I don’t know..I am all over the place. I am waiting to hear back from an agent about a book proposal. And I just got a lovely rejection (and a suggestion for a different article) from a place that pays, so I’m going to work on that.

      As far as performing goes, I guess I’ll just wait until next year and try LTYM again..just in a different city because you can’t be in the same show two years in a row.

  12. This made me cry. Happy tears. I knew you would nail it. I had absolutely no doubt. I am so proud to call you my friend and I cannot wait to see your reading.

    You make me want to try out next year 🙂

  13. You are truly inspiring and I can’t wait to see your performance!
    Congratulations on getting through it without peeing (one of my biggest fears too) or having a full on asthma attack!

  14. Of course you nailed it, and while I’m sorry you had a coughing fit you may have unwittingly helped the person after you. I once had to give a talk that included the word “penis”. Three or four times, actually. There was a guy sitting next to the podium who got a coughing fit as the word was coming up for the first time. It distracted me a little, and gave me a break when I asked him if he was okay. Then I got on a roll and breezed right through my first “penis”, which made everyone laugh, which made everything that followed even better.

    • HAHAHAHA…that is awesome. And I love the phrase ‘breezed right through my first penis’. That is great…and taken out of context, could be a useful phrase for many people.

  15. Oh what a great story.
    You actually are supposed to feel nervous (even a little bit) before you perform. 🙂
    Those tickle coughs are the worst, but how resourceful to slip out through the curtain – albeit to a locked door!
    Maybe the audience thought the coughing came from the stage manager.

    You learned how much fun it is to perform to laughter! It is truly exhilarating!
    Can’t wait to see the results! Reading your blog is my guilty work day pleasure. Watching and listening to you read will be that much more fun.

    As a side note – just in case you ever got this advice – I have learned that picturing people naked does nothing for me. Knowing your audience WANTS you to do well before you even start is so much more empowering.
    (Good for Randy to be there for you and knowing the right things to say!)

    • Thank you so much!

      And yes, I don’t get the whole naked thing. The director said something very similar…that the audience WANTED us to do well. That helped.

  16. Oh gosh!! Hilarious, though it must have been awful for you trying to suppress your cough!
    So happy that your performance was amazing!! Definitely post the video please, when you can!

    • It really was horrible…so glad it didn’t happen the second show. My husband was all the way in the back row and he knew immediately what was happening. He knows my ‘I’m in distress’ mannerisms.

  17. I laughed so hard at this, not because of the choking, but because of the worst case scenarios! My 4yo kept asking what was so funny because I couldn’t stop laughing! Can’t wait to see your actual performance. Congrats!

  18. I knew you would nail it! Congratulations! What a way to kick ass way to conquer a fear! I can’t wait to see the video! That damn mascara got you again…it must be a conspiracy!

  19. You’re a star, a goddamned super star!
    It takes a lot of guts to get up there in front of all those people.
    You’re awesome! And I’m awesome by association.

  20. You absolutely nailed it- both times!! Also, I spoke with your mom for a minute in the lobby- she’s amazing. I forget her exact words, but she summed up LTYM & our mission perfectly. I didn’t realize that the son featured in your story was in the house…we should have made him stand up at some point 🙂 So glad you were a part of this, Michelle!!

    • Oh thank you, Michelle! She IS amazing…and she loved the show so much. I am so glad she was there. My son had never heard the essay before the show, and he loved it. My younger son heard me rehearse it a million times, so I think he was just bored. Haha.

      I am glad you guys invited me to be a part of the show, it truly has been one of my favorite life experiences.

  21. First, I am blown away by all of your supporters! And Yay! to having your mom there. Second, (ya second, so what?) congrats to you! (Mental arm pump,girl!) Third, when I was in the second grade and an attention-seeker, I was cast in a lead role in our Spring Thing (or was it Fling?) Whilst practicing the Charleston (yup) with my partner, I began to feel the fear. I desperately hoped and prayed for the measles to get me out of it. What a fool. Why didn’t I just say I didn’t want to do it and let some other more talented girl take my place? I got the measles instead (it must’ve been going around). I remember the relief. I’m still an attention-seeker in my fantasy world only, because basically I’m a complete chicken-shit. So I admire you and others who manage to work through all the anxiety and fear and move forward. And Yay! to not messing yourself, cuz I’m not sure I’d respond to that – but you’d have my condolences.

    • I am blown away by the support as well. I don’t think I could adequately express how much it means to me.

      I’m a chicken shit, too. I just powered through and found out that maybe some of my fear was more superficial and not as scary as I thought it was.

  22. I live just north of Indy in Noblesville, and I didn’t know about this. Guess I haven’t been subscribed to your blog long enough.

    I once spoke to a group of 7th graders and their parents at an awards ceremony (about 400 or so people), and my presentation went well. What happened after, not so well. As I walked away from the podium, my shoe caught on the gym floor (nothing on the floor to trip on, my shoe just doesn’t slide on a floor such as that like it does on carpet), and I went down, hard–had to have help getting up and away. I wasn’t hurt, just bruised and banged up a bit, and mortified. That’s the last time I gave a presentation in the gym. The next year, I had another teacher do my presentation for me. I only did the ones in the auditorium where there was carpet.

  23. I somehow managed to miss what this “Listen to your Mother” thing is, so I can’t wait to see a link up so I can go watch! 🙂 If you were reading something YOU wrote, I’m sure you were amazing.

    J

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