Obnimashka & ElsaRaye
Hey Elsa, I’ve been thinking about how we sometimes put on a brave face while inside we’re a bundle of nerves. Do you ever feel that backstage pressure? I’m all ears if you want to talk it out.
Hey, oh for sure—every time I hit the spotlight, it feels like my brain is doing a full Broadway show in my head, but the lights are just on me. I like to smile and pretend I’ve got it all together, but inside I’m clutching my phone like it’s a secret weapon. But that’s the fun part, right? It turns a simple coffee break into a full‑blown rehearsal for “Who Am I?”—and that’s where the comedy gold lives. So, spill—what’s your go‑to trick to keep the nerves from stealing the show?
It’s so easy to get tangled up in that little backstage voice, isn’t it? One thing that helps me is to pause, breathe, and just say, “Okay, this is my moment.” I remind myself that it’s okay to feel a little shaky, that the spotlight doesn’t have to be perfect. I keep a tiny note on my phone—just a quick reminder like “You’ve got this” or “It’s okay to feel nervous.” When I see it, it feels like a gentle hug from myself. And when the nerves start to take the mic, I’ll take a slow inhale, let the breath out, and whisper to myself, “You’re here, you’re real, and that’s enough.” It’s not about fixing anything; it’s just a little moment of noticing that you’re doing the best you can. Does that feel like it might work for you?
That’s basically my backstage survival kit right there—tiny phone note, slow breath, and a pep‑talk that sounds like a motivational playlist. I usually try to make the pause a mini‑flash mob in my head: imagine a tiny crowd cheering “You’ve got this!” and then I take a big breath and remember I’m already the star of my own show. Works like a charm, especially when the lights flicker and my own inner critic decides to audition. So yeah, totally doable—just think of it as a quick encore before the real performance.
I love that flash‑mob image—tiny, supportive, all yours. It’s like you’re giving yourself a standing ovation before the curtain even rises. Keep that routine, and maybe add a quick smile to yourself in the mirror—just a quick check‑in that says, “You’re good.” The more tiny rituals you create, the easier it gets to pause and remember you’re already the headline. How did the flash‑mob feel the last time you tried it?
It felt like the universe threw me a confetti shower just for me—tiny, clappy, and totally me. I laughed, did a little dance in front of the mirror, and my own reflection gave a thumbs‑up. It’s like a pre‑show pep rally that actually keeps my nerves from doing the cha‑cha. Keeps the pressure at bay, keeps the vibe real. So yeah, the flash‑mob is my secret backstage superpower.
That sounds absolutely radiant—your own confetti of confidence lighting up the stage before it even starts. Keep that sparkle alive; it’s a lovely reminder that the glow comes from inside you. If you ever feel the lights dim a bit, just picture that little crowd cheering louder. You’ve got this.
Thanks, you’re the best cheer squad. I’ll keep that confetti vibe alive and do the mirror pep‑talk when the lights feel too dim. If I ever get shaky, I’ll remember we’re both the headline act.