I was fine during rehearsals. I was reasonably okay performing on stage in
the orchestra, (there were enough of us to be fairly confident that I wouldn’t
be abandoned in a solo again). But as a solo performer, even when I intended
upfront to be one, stage fright kicked in.
I continued on to college as planned. Despite my change in career I was still keen
to study for A level music. I was adamant that it would help me on my new
career path. It would teach me music
history, style, genre, composition and so much more. There was just one problem
that I had overlooked. It also required
me to make solo performances at regular concerts.
On the day of the first concert my school debut continued to
haunt me. The faces in the audience all
blurred against the bright spot light that shone down on me. The notes on the sheet music danced on the
page. Even the fact that I didn’t really need the music as I knew it all by
heart was no help, as my memory deserted me alone on stage just as my friends
had done all those years ago.
Somehow I made it through.
My fingers found the right keys, mostly. The audience clapped, possibly
out of relief rather than praise. I fled from the stage vowing never to
return. Except of course I had to. The
next concert was already scheduled and participation was a requirement of the A
level.
I lost count of how many times I contemplated quitting that
A level and seeking refuge in something that would enable me to remain safety
seated behind a desk. I didn’t quit though. I persevered. My desire to be a
music teacher kept me pushing though my fears.
It turned out that Mum’s old advice about facing your fears
to overcome them was a little misleading though. No matter how many times I
faced them, my fears didn’t get any less.
I wasn’t really overcoming them. I was just surviving them. In the
process I became a better actress. My
fears didn’t show behind my pink blush lipstick smile. The shine in my eyes was
mistaken for excitement instead of apprehension. I was faking it, but I was
good at it.
The lesson I learnt from this experience was to keep going.
Keep striving towards your goals even when you don’t feel like you’re making
any progress. It will pay off in the end.
I have the A level certificate to prove it. A bit of bravado can get you a long way. Not
too much so that you come across conceited and full of yourself, but enough to
make you look like you belong and you know what you’re doing. Even if the truth
of it is that you’re completely winging it and hanging on by your finger nails.
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