BY AARDE WRITES for WEEKLY VOLCANO | 7/3/2026
Hey Aarde,
I have a performance coming up, and I’m starting to freak out. Any advice for me?
Signed, Stage Frozen
Hey Stage Frozen,
One thing I know for sure is that if you’re on a stage, it’s because you have something important to say, something worth sharing, something you’ve worked hard on, or you’re pushing yourself to show up in a big way. All of those deserve praise. Whether you’re up there to give an in-depth speech on global warming, dance through a choreographed jitterbug routine, or mime out a comedy sketch, you’re in a place where growth is pretty much guaranteed. Getting on a stage can be diabolically scary for some and a piece of cake for others, but I’d bet even the “natural” performers had to wrestle with nerves somewhere along the way.
When panic kicks in, it helps to remember that most of the audience is there because they want to be there. They bought a ticket, put it on their calendar, got dressed, and showed up. They don’t know your script, your choreography, or what your performance is “supposed” to look like. So whatever you do will be new to them. I’ve heard people suggest picturing everyone naked, but that always feels like too much mental gymnastics. It’s simpler to come back to your own body and remind it that it’s not in danger. Even saying it out loud can help: “Body, you are not in danger. This will be over quickly, and I’ve prepared for this moment.”
The more familiar you are with your material, the more confident you’ll feel. So preparation matters. Winging it is rarely a good idea if you already struggle with nerves. Practice in a space that resembles the real setting as much as possible, an empty classroom, a gym, a park, wherever you can get a sense of scale and presence. Breaking the task into smaller sections also helps your brain stay organized. Don’t try to hold the whole thing at once; focus on one piece at a time.
One helpful trick is to write an acronym on your hand as a simple cue for your main points. Let’s say your talk is about learning to swim. Your key ideas might be: Face the water, Learn to float, Open your breathing, Add arm and leg movement, Train consistently. That becomes FLOAT. Just glancing at it can keep you on track without relying on full notes.
If you want even more structure, you can mentally attach a few subpoints to each letter. Look up “nested acronyms” if you’re curious. The point isn’t memorizing every detail perfectly; it’s giving your brain a roadmap to follow when you suddenly feel lost.
These kinds of cues help you stay organized, recover quickly when your mind blanks, and keep your attention on the audience rather than on fear. You can write them on a notecard, your hand, or even place a discreet cue card somewhere you can see before going on. And speaking of timing, arrive early. Showing up rushed or chaotic only adds unnecessary stress. Give yourself time to settle into the space and get comfortable.
Most professionals rely on routines for a reason. You could develop a consistent pre-performance routine like Beyoncé, who has said she prays with her dancers and band, warms up her voice, stretches, and mentally focuses before performing. If someone at that level still relies on grounding habits, it’s a pretty good sign that routine isn’t optional; it’s useful.
It also helps to shift your focus outward. This performance isn’t about you as a person; it’s about the message you’re delivering. Your inner critic will likely show up and try to turn everything into worst-case scenarios. When it does, challenge it. If the thought is, “I’m going to bomb, and everyone will laugh,” respond with something more grounded, like, “I’m going to do my best, and if even only one person hears what I need to say, I’ve succeeded.” Most likely, your brain naturally leans toward negative predictions, so you have to actively give it another version of the story to follow. If your mind starts replaying disaster scenarios, don’t fight it; redirect it. Say something like, “Show me the version where I stay calm, and it goes well,” and then return your attention there.
When it’s time to step up, breathing becomes your anchor. Slow, steady breaths help regulate your body and clear your thinking. Release tension in your shoulders, jaw, and hands. Shake it out! You should feel your posture naturally reset into a more grounded, confident stance. Then shift your attention to the present moment instead of the outcome. Start at a steady pace rather than rushing. If you can, find one friendly face in the audience and use that as a small point of supportive connection. And believe it or not, most audiences want you to succeed.
Whether you’re a basketball player at the free-throw line with two seconds left, a thespian waiting for the curtain to rise, or a dancer in your 4-inch heels about to step on stage, the same principles apply: trust your preparation, follow your routine, control what you can, and focus on the next action instead of the outcome. Success rarely comes from eliminating nerves; it comes from moving forward despite them and letting your well-practiced plan take over.
It’ll be over before you know it, and afterward, you’ll have time to think about what went well and what you want to improve for next time. That reflection is where confidence actually builds. The more you say yes to these moments, the easier they become. Everyone has a first time. And if I had to guess, this won’t be your last time stepping into a spotlight, so you might as well get comfortable growing in it. Congratulations on getting to the stage. You’re going to do great, and you’ll only get better from here!
