Who Are We Auditioning For? The Unseen Performances of Daily Life

The podcast delves into the nuanced experiences of performing artists in their daily lives, particularly focusing on the concept of the 'auditioning self.' This notion transcends the theatrical realm, suggesting that individuals often find themselves in perpetual auditions, even in their private moments. Champagne Hughes, the host, elucidates this phenomenon by recounting personal reflections on familial dynamics and the subtle auditions that occur when assessing one's role within a family legacy. The discussion raises profound questions about identity, expectations, and the inherent pressures to conform to perceived roles in various social contexts. By exploring the psychological concept of the spotlight effect, the episode unveils how individuals may feel under constant scrutiny, leading to emotional fatigue and a disconnection from their authentic selves.

Furthermore, Hughes introduces the idea of strategic vulnerability, urging listeners to discern the appropriateness of their self-expression based on the audience present. This strategic approach does not equate to inauthenticity; rather, it serves as a protective mechanism to ensure that one's full emotional capacity is not met with resistance or rejection. The episode compellingly articulates the importance of understanding one's environment, fostering genuine connections, and maintaining a balance between vulnerability and self-preservation. Ultimately, it advocates for a transformative shift in perspective, where individuals recognize their inherent worth beyond external validations, promoting a sense of resilience and authenticity in all aspects of life.

Takeaways:

1. The podcast explores the nuanced experience of performing when there is no audience, focusing on the internal dialogues we maintain in daily life.
2. It examines the concept of the 'auditioning self' and how it influences our interactions across various environments, from professional settings to family gatherings.
3. The discussion addresses the emotional toll of constantly adjusting ourselves for perceived external expectations, leading to fatigue and disconnection from our authentic selves.
4. Listeners are encouraged to practice strategic vulnerability and intentional disclosure in order to foster genuine connections without compromising their authenticity.
5. The importance of self-compassion is emphasized, highlighting that feeling rejected does not diminish one's intrinsic worth and ability to express oneself fully.
6. The episode concludes with a call to observe one's interactions and to bring a greater sense of authenticity into everyday life, thereby nurturing one's inner artist.

Persons mentioned in this episode:

1. Robert Greene
2. Kristin Neff
3. Maya Angelou

What's your most convincing performance when you're not on a stage, not in front of a mic, not in front of the spotlight?

And have you ever felt you're always on, even when there's no official audience?

Welcome back to after the Applause, the podcast where we pull back the curtain on the daily lives of performing artists and honestly, anyone who pours their heart into their craft.

My name is Champagne Hughes, and I am a drama therapist, actor, dj.

So many things.

I'm on the way to licensure as a marriage family therapist.

And this is where we get real about what happens when the show is over, when the lights dim, and when that audience applause or even just any everyday acknowledgement isn't there anymore.

And lately I've been doing a lot of thinking about this and how I enter spaces and what kinds of roles I take on or what people expect of me.

But most specifically, I've been pondering what I give and what I get in return.

And that question, who am I auditioning for?

Or what is my auditioning self?

Really started to emerge for me.

And this hit me recently, especially within my family.

We are at the stage where we're trying to figure out the future of our family home.

How do we pass it on?

Who's going to take care of it for future generations?

And it quickly became a subtle process of checking people's reliability, observing their behaviors, seeing what they need to do to show that they are the next person capable for caring for this legacy.

And I realized that the person who was moving on was the casting director.

Then my brother, my sister, my mother, and I, amongst all the other family members in our various silos, were subtly auditioning.

Like, what's our background?

What have we done?

What resources can we bring?

It's like we're auditioning for the next act of our family story, for the role of the next steward of this home.

And that made me wonder, does this type of auditioning happen in other areas of our lives, too?

So today, we're diving deep into that question.

This is who are we auditioning for the.

The unseen performances of daily life?

We're going to unravel how we present ourselves in various spheres, from our jobs to our living rooms, what the auditioning self looks like, and crucially, how to protect our authentic selves when our genuine expression might be met with an unexpected curveball.

We're going to explore why we sometimes feel the need to audition, how to recognize when a role no longer serves us, and discover some artistic ways to protect your energy and find repair when You've given just about everything you've got.

So as artists, we know the audition drill, right?

The nerves, the meticulous preparation, the curated outfit, that finely tuned monologue or that perfectly rehearsed song.

It's all about putting your best foot forward, hoping to impress, hoping to land that part.

But what if I told you that this audition isn't just for callbacks in the casting room?

What if it's a subtle, often unconscious dance we perform daily?

Think about it for a moment, okay?

That big work meeting where you're trying to prove your worth.

That first date where you're putting on your charm, hoping to make a connection.

Family gatherings where you might fall back into an old role you played as a kid.

Or navigating new social circles, large professional groups where you want to show you're a good fit.

In these spaces, we're often presenting a version of ourselves, hoping for acceptance, approval, or a specific outcome.

We're trying to land the part.

In life, this concept ties into something psychologists call the spotlight effect.

It's this fascinating phenomenon where we tend to overestimate how much other people are noticing us and our actions, how much attention they're paying to our appearance, our mistakes in our every move.

For us artists, this is often heightened, right?

We're often meant to be seen to command attention, to make an impact.

That's literally our job.

But what happens when that scene mentality extends beyond the stage and seeps into our quietest moments?

When we feel like we're constantly under an invisible spotlight, even when we're just trying to simply, I don't know, just make breakfast or just catch the train.

So think about that.

Are you performing for an audience that isn't even there?

Or maybe one you've made up yourself?

So in drama therapy, where my professional journey truly lies, we understand that we embody many roles throughout our day.

Not just roles in a play, but the role of a diligent employee, the supportive friend, the loving partner, the responsible parent, the community member.

These roles aren't inherently bad.

They're essential for navigating our complex world.

They help us understand expectations and interact effectively.

However, an auditioning self, right, can emerge when we prioritize perceived external expectations over our authentic self, when we're constantly adjusting our script, hoping to land the part in life rather than just living it.

It's like we're forever seeking external validation, making sure we get that nod of approval from an imagined casting director in the sky.

Sounds familiar.

Now, recently, I've experienced this tension myself, and it's brought this whole idea into a sharp focus for me, right?

Like this has shown up particularly in my personal life, specifically in dating.

And when trying to join, like large group organizations, you know, the professional associations that might value creativity but often operate with a very traditional rule oriented structure, there's often this initial invitation, right?

This seemingly open call.

Bring your full self.

We want your personality.

We're family.

We want your authenticity.

And as someone who loves to connect, to play, to expand and share, someone who truly thrives on vulnerability in a healthy way, I brought it, I bring it my personality, my capacity to give and nurture my enthusiasm.

It's a significant part of how I show up, how I love and how I truly connect.

It's my quote unquote spectacle self in the best artistic sense, an expansive, vibrant expression of who I am.

But then paradoxically, that very expression can sometimes be met with a pushback or a subtle almost type of rejection, right?

And it's almost as if despite asking for authenticity, there's an unwritten rule that says, no, not that.

No, that's too much.

Not all of you, not yet.

This can be pretty much true in those more traditional structures that despite claiming to want creativity, can struggle to integrate it if it doesn't fit their pre existing molds.

It's such a strange contradiction for us as performing performers.

We're trained to expand, to connect immediately, to show the depth of our connection and truth.

On stage, we're taught to give it all right then and there to make that connection real.

But in real life, when you're trying to build a genuine relationship or enter a new social circle, it sometimes feel like the auditioning self needs to be strategic, to hold back a bit, to create that mystery.

And I love me some Robert Greene.

And if you don't know.

Robert Greene is the author of the 48 Laws of Power.

And he says wisely in Law 3 that you are to conceal your intentions.

He advises, if you make it clear what you're doing and why, your opponents will be able to frustrate you, throw them off the scent by not revealing the purpose behind your actions.

While we're not talking about opponents in this context, the principle of strategic revelation can apply to protecting our energy.

I was taught that as a performer because my joy comes from being involved, from being vulnerable and expressive on stage.

That's where I learned to be seen and loved for my full range.

And this isn't about being inauthentic, not at all.

But it's about understanding that sometimes our full, unfiltered expression, I'll say it again.

Unfiltered expression, especially for those of us with what might be considered a large personality or deep wells of vulnerability, can overwhelm spaces that haven't been built for the capacity to receive it yet.

It's the paradox of Be Yourself meets Don't Be Too Much of Yourself.

And for performing artists who are often wired to give, to feel deeply and to express fully, this can be incredibly confusing and frankly, deeply painful.

It's like putting on the performance of your life and the audience just shrugs or worse, turns away.

So I'll ask you this question, and it can be rhetorical.

When was the last time you felt like you had to shrink yourself to fit into someone else's idea of who you should be?

When we're constantly tailoring ourselves, editing our true essence to fit in or get the part in these unseen auditions is absolutely exhausting.

It leads to emotional fatigue, burnout, and a profound disconnect from our core.

We start to lose touch with who we are when no one is watching, because someone is always watching, even if it's just the imagined audience in our heads.

This isn't just my experience or yours.

This is supported by research and peer reviewed studies on authenticity and well being consistently highlight this.

They found a significant positive correlation between authenticity and psychological well being.

Conversely, suppressing one's true self in social interactions, essentially constantly auditioning, can lead to increased stress, anxiety and even feelings of inauthenticity that erode our self esteem.

It's an emotional tax we pay when we try to be someone we're not just to gain acceptance.

And it's a heavy tax for us, whose sense of identity is so tied to our expressiveness.

When our greatest gift, our ability to be open, vulnerable and expansive, are met with rejection, it feels like a rejection of our very being.

So how the hell do we navigate this right?

How do we protect ourselves when our instinct, our creative wiring, is to give, to play, to be vulnerable without feeling boxed in or repeatedly rejected?

This is where we transform the idea of protection into an artistic practice, a way to be both powerfully authentic and strategic at the same time.

And it's not about shutting down.

It's about intelligent vulnerability.

It's about understanding who is in our audience and what kind of space we're stepping into.

The journey requires us to be what I like to call an emotional athlete.

So think about it.

We're constantly flexing our emotional muscles, facing Highs and lows, sometimes even emotional injuries, when our genuine, genuine expression isn't met with reciprocity.

We're resilient, we're powerful.

But like any athlete, we need strategic training, recovery and protective gear.

Not to hide our light, but to sustain our capacity to perform authentically for the long run.

In drama therapy, we have principles that can guide us in this artistic protection and repair.

So first, it's all about awareness and assessment.

So before you perform, whether it's a new social setting, a first date, a new work environment, or even a tricky family reunion, take a moment to assess the stage.

Who is the audience?

What kind of reciprocity or appreciation is genuinely present here?

What are the unwritten rules, if any, and ask yourself, am I genuinely invited to bring my whole self here, or am I being asked to fit into a mold?

Is this a space that can truly hold my expansive energy?

Second, practice strategic vulnerability and intentional disclosure.

So let's call it rehearsing for authenticity.

This is not in no way about being fake, right?

It's about being discerning with how much of your expansive, vulnerable self you share.

Initially, it's about building trust and connection gradually allowing the space to prove it can hold it for you.

So as artists, our feelers are often extremely empathetic.

We pick up on cues we feel deeply, and the initial excitement of a new connection, a new group, a new opportunity can make us want to share everything, to give our full selves immediately.

But it's about knowing how to govern that type of disclosure in the daily performance.

This isn't just about protecting yourself, it's also about fostering genuine connection.

While consuming hard, uncomfortable topics in creative forms might be palatable, the day to day work of genuine connection, of real vulnerability, can be much harder for others to receive.

Therefore, we cultivate the discernment.

We learned that establishing a public self and a private self isn't about being inauthentic, but about being mindful of what parts of us are for general consumption and what parts are reserved for those who earned your deeper trust in vulnerability.

So think of it like a new play or new song, right?

You don't perform the entire thing perfectly.

Day one.

You rehearse, you build, you refine and you read the room.

You start with your, you know, simple text, right?

And not your, your grand finale.

You allow space for others to reciprocate, to show their capacity for receiving your full self before you fully unfold your spectacle self.

Think of it like an ensemble piece, right?

Not a soliloquy or a monologue.

The practice of intentional disclosure is a muscle we build.

It's about understanding when and with whom to share the depths of being.

Ensuring that the community or individual can truly be an ensemble, not just an audience.

Inclusivity and being truly seen within a supportive community is paramount to our healing and thriving.

This is our brave vulnerability, the courage to be seen, but with wisdom.

So ask yourself this.

What if your true power isn't in performing for them, but in choosing who you perform for?

Third, we talk about role negotiation and release.

This means recognizing when a role, especially that auditioning self, no longer serves your well being.

This is about giving radical permission to step out of that part.

Sometimes we cling to roles because they feel familiar, even if they're depleting.

This is where drama therapy offers some powerful tools for liberation.

So let's consider maybe some symbolic rituals, right?

This could be a personal, private ritual of taking off the costume of like a restrictive role.

Maybe you write down the traits of that auditioning self that drains you and you symbolically shred it.

Perhaps it's a specific movement or dance you do alone, signifying your release.

It could also be a simple mantra or a visual image you hold in your hand like a locked box.

A fading spotlight that signifies letting go of the need to perform for others.

And maybe boundary setting.

I know I have a hard time with this.

This is a profound act of self love where the giving artist learning to say no to demands that deplete you or not right now to opportunities that would force you into an authentic performance.

It's setting guardrails around your precious artistic energy.

And finally, self compassion as the ultimate backstage pass.

When your expansive self is met with rejection or misunderstanding, it hurts.

It's painful.

This is precisely where self compassion steps in.

It's not about blaming yourself for being too much or too sensitive or too loud.

It's about acknowledging that hurt and offering yourself the same kindness, understanding and willingness, warmth you'd offer a fellow artist struggling backstage, or even a child who's been told they're too much.

And Kristin Neff, a leading researcher in self Compassion, identifies three core mindfulness, being aware of your suffering without judgment, common humanity, recognizing that suffering is a shared experience, not a personal failing.

And self kindness, treating yourself with warmth and understanding rather than harsh self criticism.

Instead of judging and criticizing yourself, self compassion means you are kind and understanding when confronted with personal failings.

For us artists who are so often judged by others, maybe even ourselves, turning that kindness inward is revolutionary.

It reminds us that feeling rejected or misunderstood is a universal human Experience, not a personal flawless.

I would consider finding or establishing that compassionate director or producer, the one that knows unconditionally that you were made for this purpose.

You were made for this craft.

Now, for the juiciest part and perhaps the ultimate shift in perspective.

What if you approached every interaction, every new relationship, every opportunity with the profound understanding that you already possess the inherent worth required for any role?

Not that you've gotten the specific job right or secured the relationship or landed the spot in the organization.

Not that the outcome is guaranteed, but that your value, your capability and your unique light are not dependent on that external validation.

I want you to imagine coming into every space from a place of deep relaxation, of unshakable assurance or profound self acceptance.

This isn't about arrogance or delusion.

It's not a God complex.

It's about understanding that you already are complete.

You're already enough, you're already magnificent.

Regardless of who approves or what happens next, when you embody that internal truth, your anxiety about performing for approval significantly lowers.

That frantic performance anxiety that makes us tighten up and contort ourselves to fit starts to dissipate because of pressure to prove yourself is lessened.

This means cultivating a deep sense of happiness with who you are right now, in this very moment.

Please check in.

Are you happy with yourself right now, this very moment?

Because I want you to know, knowing this is who you are.

Fundamentally, no job offer, no person you're dating, no organizational acceptance can diminish or stop that inherent worth, because it doesn't come from them.

When you step into the world from this place, you're no longer primarily auditioning.

You are simply being.

You're performing from a place of inherent value and inner knowing, not frantically seeking it.

This mindset also powerfully shifts what you attract.

When you are truly rooted in your own worth, you open up to receiving what is genuinely meant for you.

You are signaling to the universe, to your potential collaborators, your future ensemble, your true bandmates, that you are whole, complete.

You're a person ready to connect authentically.

The right people, the right opportunities will gravitate towards and see you for who you are, because you no longer are hiding or contorting yourself.

And as a powerful poet, activist and educator, Dr. Maya Angelou, so eloquently put it, you alone are enough.

You have nothing to prove to anybody.

This isn't about ignoring the realities of rejection or disappointment that life will inevitably bring.

It's about practicing resilience in the face of those realities.

When you don't get the part, when the relationship doesn't work out.

When the structure proves too rigid for your creativity, the disappointment still hits.

But from this place of self acceptance, the rejection doesn't shatter your core identity.

It becomes feedback, an external event, not a judgment on your inherent value.

You cultivate the strength to bounce back, to adjust, to keep seeking spaces and people that truly resonate with your authentic self.

This journey, of course, takes patience.

It might involve periods of loneliness as you learn to discern and wait for connections that truly honor your whole self.

But there is no doubt that your unshakable sense of belief in your own inherent value is what opens up possibilities.

It's what creates the space of authentic connection, where your full self isn't just tolerated, but celebrated.

It's about knowing, deep in your bones, that the role meant for you already has your name on it.

And your work is to cultivate that inner knowing.

Today we've unpacked the profound idea of auditioning for life.

In our work, our relationships, our social circles, and even our most personal spaces, like our families, we talked about the paradox of vulnerability, the sting of rejection when our full selves are expressed, and how to practice artistic protection through strategic vulnerability, intentional disclosure, and rehearsing for authenticity.

But most importantly, we explore the transformative power of approaching life from a place of already having the role of embodying your inherent worth and trusting that what is meant for you will see you.

This is the foundation of true resilience.

So remember this.

You are an emotional athlete.

Your artistry, your capacity for expansion, your profound ability to connect and express.

These are your superpowers.

The goal isn't to shrink yourself ever.

The goal is to understand your audience, to choose your stages wisely, and to practice radical self compassion and repair.

When you encounter resistance, when that applause doesn't come, or when you feel unseen, your worth is inherent, not something to be auditioned for.

My deepest hope is that this conversation has ignited something within you.

A spark of awareness, a burning desire for authenticity, and a renewed commitment to nurturing your inner artist, even when there's no applause.

So this week, I invite you to try one small but mighty step.

Observe one interaction where you find yourself subtly auditioning or adjusting yourself for someone else's approval.

Then gently ask yourself, who am I trying to impress here?

And what would happen if I just brought 10% more of my authentic, playful self?

Or conversely, what if I strategically held 10% back for my own projection, just to see what happens?

And if this episode resonated with you, if it sparked a flicker of recognition or inspiration, please do me a solid.

Share it.

Share it with another artist, another creative soul, another friend who needs to hear this message and leave me a review whenever you listen to a podcast and subscribe so you don't miss an episode.

But let's keep this conversation going.

And thank you for joining me after the applause.

Until next time, keep nurturing your authentic self and keep playing on your own damn terms.