What's your approach to handling stage fright or nervousness before an audition or performance? What helps you stay calm and focused?

As a Licensed School Psychologist who's spent over a decade working with performers and high-achievers dealing with anxiety, I've seen what actually works for performance nerves. The secret isn't eliminating the anxiety--it's reframing those physical sensations as excitement and readiness rather than fear. I teach my clients the "PLEASE" skill from DBT therapy, which focuses on managing your basic physical needs before high-pressure situations. Get enough sleep the night before, balance your eating (don't skip meals or overeat), and do light exercise to burn off excess nervous energy. Your mind and body are connected--when your physical baseline is stable, your emotional regulation follows. The game-changer is what I call "sensory anchoring" during your preparation. About 15 minutes before your audition, engage your senses intentionally--sip herbal tea, use a calming scent, or hold something with a comforting texture. This mirrors the telehealth prep techniques we teach clients, and it creates a portable calm state you can access anywhere. One technique that consistently works is accepting those butterflies instead of fighting them. I had one young performer who transformed her career when she started telling herself "I'm excited" instead of "I'm nervous" before auditions. Same physical sensations, completely different mental frame--and her booking rate doubled within six months.

For me, stage fright has always been part of the process unfortunately, but I've learned ways to manage it. One technique that really helps is controlled breathing--I'll breathe in for 5 seconds, hold for 5, and breathe out for 5, which slows my heart rate and calms my body. Over time, the more I've put myself out there and performed, the easier it's become; exposure has helped lessen the intensity of my anxiety, even though I still sometimes feel those butterflies in my stomach, sweaty hands, and racing thoughts. The nerves don't fully go away, but I've learned to accept them as part of the experience. Once I'm actually on stage and in the middle of a song, I pour everything into the performance--my emotions, my energy, and my focus--and the nerves fade into the background. That shift into the music is what allows me to stay present and connected with my audience.

As an actor, I definitely still get nervous before auditions or performances. For me, the first step is always taking a few deep breaths to center myself. I remind myself that feeling nervous just means I care about the role and the work. Instead of worrying about how I'll be judged, I focus on the character and the story I'm telling. Sometimes I'll put on music to get into the right headspace. A quick stretch also helps me release any tension I'm holding onto. Once I'm in the moment, those nerves usually shift into energy. That energy actually makes my performance feel more alive and real.

When nerves start to creep in before a performance, it helps to anchor your attention on what you are actually there to deliver: your lines, your music, your message, rather than what the audience might be thinking of you in that moment. Worrying about reactions or trying to read faces only adds pressure and distracts from your preparation. Instead, run through your material slowly in your head or quietly backstage, paying attention to what you want to say or express. Remind yourself what brought you to this moment or why you care about it in the first place. This shift will give you something solid to focus on, which keeps nerves from getting out of control. When your mind is on the work itself instead of other people's opinions, it is easier to stay calm and actually give your best performance, even if the adrenaline is still there.

As a somatic therapist, I've learned that stage fright lives in your body, not just your mind. Your nervous system interprets performance situations as threats, triggering fight-or-flight responses that create racing hearts, shallow breathing, and muscle tension. The game-changer is working with your body's responses instead of fighting them. I teach clients simple grounding techniques--feel your feet on the floor, press your palms together, or gently sway side to side. These small movements signal safety to your nervous system and can shift you out of panic mode in under a minute. One client was a musician who'd freeze during auditions despite knowing her pieces perfectly. We practiced "titration"--staying present with small amounts of nervousness rather than being overwhelmed by it all. She'd notice tension in her shoulders, breathe into that area, then gradually expand her awareness. This built her capacity to stay connected to her body even when anxious. The key insight: nervousness often means your system is stuck between wanting to perform (fight) and wanting to escape (flight). Gentle movement like shoulder rolls or shifting your weight helps your nervous system choose engagement over escape, changing anxiety into focused energy.

Before any performance, I tell myself I'm the pro athlete in the room. This mindset reframes the dynamic, steadies my breathing, and helps me focus fully on execution, while reminding me the audience is simply people, not something to fear.

For me, nervousness usually hits in those moments right before pitching Magic Hour or speaking at a tech event. When the chips were down during YC Demo Day, a couple rounds of deep breathing and quick visualization settled my mind more than rehearsing lines again. I picture the audience as collaborators instead of critics, which changes the pressure into connection. I've learned the nerves never 'go away,' but they can shift into positive energy if managed. So I'd suggest acknowledging the fear, steadying your breath, and reframing the moment as an opportunity to create, not perform.

I used to let stage fright derail me before writing or public speaking and also had the same butterflies with breakdancing, but I've learned how to use that energy instead of letting it paralyze me. I tell myself that being nervous is that EXTRA ENERGY waiting to be channeled properly - and when I handle it correctly, it provides an even keener edge to my concentration. Before I go out, I take a breath and slow it down, flap my arms to roll back the tension that has settled into my shoulders and visualize the opening 30 seconds of what is to come - since starting strong makes the rest flow. I also make sure my preparation is consistent; when I know in myself that I've prepared well, the confidence creeps up and somehow silences the self-doubt. One time I competed in a dance competition and blank-stopped for a fraction of a second when the crowd roared more than I anticipated. I changed my focus to the beat in my body and not the noise, and let muscle memory guide me throughout that set. That little mental switch from "they're watching me" to "I'm sharing this with them" brought calm in an instant and helped me finish strong.

The key is to reframe nervousness not as fear, but as energy. The shaky hands, the racing heart, the butterflies in your stomach—these aren't signals that you're about to fail. They are signs that your body is ready, that it's delivering the oxygen and adrenaline you need to perform at your peak. I often encourage performers to rename that feeling. Instead of saying, "I'm so nervous," try saying, "I'm so ready." Think of your body like a high-performance race car. Before the green flag, the engine roars, the chassis vibrates, and it practically hums with power. It isn't broken; it's preparing to launch. Stage fright is your engine revving. The trick isn't to shut the engine off, but to learn how to put it in gear and steer. To do that, I suggest two simple, grounding actions. First, practice diaphragmatic breathing—slow, deep breaths that engage your stomach. This technique directly counters the shallow breathing of a fight-or-flight response and calms your nervous system. It's a physical reset button. Second, shift your focus from the internal feeling to an external anchor. Concentrate fully on the physical sensation of your feet planted firmly on the floor. From my own experience on stage, I've learned it also helps to shift your goal from seeking approval to focusing on pure expression. When you stop worrying about others' perception and concentrate on the message you want to deliver, you reclaim your power. Ultimately, the only feedback that should truly matter is your own—the conversation you have with the person in the mirror after the performance.

As someone who spent years as the "good girl" performing for approval and later struggled with anxiety disorders in my therapy practice, I've learned that stage fright is actually your nervous system trying to protect you from perceived rejection or judgment. The game-changer for me was realizing I was fighting two different internal voices - the part that wanted to hide and the authentic part that had something valuable to share. Instead of trying to eliminate the nerves, I started acknowledging them: "I notice I'm feeling scared, and that's okay." This stops the shame spiral that makes anxiety worse. I use a technique I teach clients called the "Yellow Flag" check-in before any speaking engagement. I ask myself: "What kind of tired am I right now?" If I'm emotionally drained from people-pleasing all week, I know my nerves will be higher. If I'm physically tired, I focus on grounding techniques. The most powerful shift happened when I stopped trying to be liked and started focusing on belonging to myself first. Now before any presentation, I remind myself: "I'm here to share something helpful, not to perform for approval." My success rate speaking at mental health conferences improved dramatically once I stopped abandoning myself to please the audience.

Coming from two decades in high-stakes healthcare M&A deals worth over $2 billion, I learned that performance anxiety actually signals your body is preparing for something important. When I launched Tides Mental Health last year, I finded that physical manifestations of nervousness--like the rapid heartbeat and sweating I experienced before major investor presentations--can be redirected through simple sensory techniques. The game-changer for me was finding that chewing activates neuronal pathways that release mood-regulating neurotransmitters like serotonin and dopamine. Before crucial board meetings at Birchwood Healthcare Partners, I'd chew sugar-free gum for 5-10 minutes beforehand. This mechanical stimulation literally shifts your nervous system from fight-or-flight to a calmer state by engaging the parasympathetic response. I also use what I call "pressure point reset"--applying firm pressure to the P6 acupressure point (three finger-widths below your wrist) for 2-3 minutes before high-pressure situations. This technique helped me stay centered during a particularly challenging $50M deal negotiation where multiple parties were involved. The physical act gives your brain something concrete to focus on while naturally reducing nausea and tension. The key insight from treating anxiety at Tides is that trying to eliminate nerves completely backfires. Instead, I give my nervous energy a productive outlet through these physical techniques, then use that heightened alertness as fuel for sharper focus during the actual performance.

Stage fright is something that almost everyone experiences. I've learned that the key is not trying to overcome it, but learning how to work with it. The first thing I do when I feel nervous about a speech or a performance is acknowledge how I feel. Recognizing that nerves are a good sign that I care about what I'm about to do. It helps me shift my mindset from fear to focus. I rely on routines to calm my body and mind. Slow, deep breathing, gentle stretches, or even shaking out tension in my hands and shoulders help release the physical symptoms of nervousness. I also try to focus on the present moment instead of the audience. Thinking about the story I'm about to tell, the emotion I want to convey, or the technique I've practiced allows me to stay in the performance rather than my head. Preparation is another key part of staying calm. Knowing that I've practiced and rehearsed thoroughly gives me confidence and helps quiet the nerves. This approach has not only reduced fear but also made performing more rewarding because I'm able to fully engage with the material and the experience rather than being caught up in anxiety.

As someone who works in mental health care, I've seen firsthand how structured breathing is one of the most effective tools for calming stage fright. Whenever anxious thoughts spike before a presentation, I use a clinical exercise: inhale for four, hold for four, exhale for six. That simple rhythm regulates the nervous system and keeps my mind from racing. I've encouraged clients to pair it with grounding by noticing sensory details, which helps them feel present. If you practice it even when you're calm, it becomes second nature to rely on it during high-pressure moments.

Growing up as a Chinese immigrant, I learned early that showing nervousness was seen as weakness, so I developed intense performance anxiety that followed me into adulthood. My breakthrough came when I started incorporating somatic awareness techniques from my dance and martial arts background before high-pressure nonprofit presentations in San Francisco. The game-changer is what I call "nervous system befriending"--instead of fighting the physical sensations, I acknowledge them as my body preparing for something important. Before speaking at conferences about intergenerational trauma, I do a 2-minute body scan to notice where I'm holding tension, then use specific breathing patterns from vipassana meditation to work with that energy rather than against it. I finded that performance anxiety often stems from old family patterns where we learned our worth depended on being perfect. When I reframe pre-performance nerves as my ancestors' survival instincts trying to protect me, it transforms the experience from shame into gratitude. This shift alone reduced my presentation anxiety by about 70% and helped me feel more authentic on stage. The key is training your nervous system during calm moments, not just when you're already activated. I practice grounding techniques daily through martial arts, which builds resilience that automatically kicks in during high-stakes situations.

I usually treat stage fright the same way I coach teens through anxietyby slowing everything down with grounding techniques. Before stepping into an audition or speaking engagement, I practice mindful breathing, almost like running a quick internal checklist. That small ritual shifts me from worrying about perfection to simply being present, which makes all the difference.

After 37 years treating everyone from 3-year-olds to 103-year-olds, I've seen performance anxiety destroy talented people. The key isn't eliminating nerves--it's rewiring how your brain processes that activation energy. I use what I call "bilateral stimulation grounding" borrowed from my EMDR work. Cross your arms and alternately tap your shoulders while breathing--left, right, left, right--for 30 seconds. This activates both brain hemispheres and literally calms your nervous system the same way we process trauma. Here's the game-changer: reframe those physical symptoms as excitement, not fear. Your racing heart and sweaty palms are identical whether you're terrified or thrilled. I had a client who went from panic attacks before job interviews to landing her dream role by telling herself "my body is getting ready to shine" instead of "I'm going to mess this up." The intensive retreat work taught me that lasting change happens when you process the root fear, not just manage symptoms. Most stage fright stems from childhood shame or perfectionism. Address that core wound through therapy, and the performance anxiety often dissolves permanently.

As a business coach who speaks at events worldwide, I've learned that pre-performance nerves aren't something to eliminate--they're energy to redirect. The key is understanding what your nervous system is actually doing and working with it instead of against it. I use what I call the "RAS reset" technique. Your Reticular Activating System filters information based on what you repeatedly focus on. Instead of asking "What if I mess up?" I train my brain to ask "How can I serve this audience best?" This literally rewires your brain to look for opportunities instead of threats. Within minutes of shifting the question, my body relaxes and ideas start flowing. The physical piece is crucial too. When I notice tension building before speaking, I pause and acknowledge what my body is telling me instead of fighting it. I had a client who was terrified of presenting to investors--her shoulders would lock up for days before meetings. We worked on listening to her nervous system signals and responding with alignment rather than resistance. Her next presentation landed her Series A funding. Your nervous system registers the gap between what you know and what you're pretending not to know. Most performance anxiety comes from trying to be someone you're not on stage. The fastest way to calm down is to get honest about what you actually want to communicate and let that truth guide your preparation instead of perfectionism.

Before any audition or performance, I've learned that the key to managing stage fright isn't eliminating nerves—it's channeling them. I used to see nervousness as a weakness, but over time I realized it's actually energy that can work in my favor if I learn to control it. My approach starts well before I step on stage. I make sure I'm deeply familiar with my material—not just memorized, but emotionally connected to it. When I understand the story or song at its core, my focus shifts from worrying about myself to expressing something meaningful. That mindset shift makes a huge difference. Right before performing, I do a quick breathing exercise—slow inhale through the nose, exhale through the mouth—to steady my heartbeat. I also visualize a successful performance: the lights, the audience's reaction, the sense of flow. That mental rehearsal helps my body feel like it's already been there. But the biggest thing that keeps me calm is reminding myself that the audience wants me to do well. They're not judging every tiny imperfection; they're rooting for a genuine performance. Once I accept that, the fear of failure fades, and I can focus on being present and real in the moment. In short, I handle stage fright by preparing thoroughly, grounding myself physically, and reframing nervousness as excitement. It's never about being fearless—it's about being brave enough to show up anyway.

As someone who's coached hundreds of therapists through the anxiety of starting their own practices and dealt with my own performance anxiety building my business, I've learned that accepting the nervousness rather than fighting it is what actually works. When I was moving into my first therapy office while juggling a newborn and full caseload, I stopped trying to eliminate the overwhelm and instead used it as fuel for hyper-focused preparation. The game-changer for me was what I call "scenario stacking"--instead of just preparing for the ideal situation, I prep for multiple messy realities. Before launching my podcast The Entrepreneurial Therapist, I practiced not just my talking points but also how I'd handle technical failures, awkward silences, or completely forgetting my train of thought. This removed the fear of the unknown that was feeding my anxiety. I teach my therapist clients to reframe their pre-client jitters as evidence they care deeply about their work. One client was paralyzed before her first group therapy session, so we practiced her opening in three different ways depending on who showed up and what energy they brought. She later told me that having those options ready made her nervous energy feel productive instead of destructive. The physical piece matters too--I do back-to-back client sessions from noon to 4 PM because I've learned my anxiety actually decreases when I'm in intense, focused work mode rather than having time to overthink between appointments.

Whether it's about pitching Cafely to potential investors or standing in front of the media for an interview, I still feel that stage fright feeling even if it's not new to me. My strategy in handling this situation is to convert it into focus and prep energy instead. I practice key points until I'm able to discuss Cafely's mission and why Vietnamese coffee is important without reading off cards. A few deep breathing exercises and a reminder it's not a performance, it's a talk about something I believe in before going in really helps me out. Having a tiny cup of our own brew with me also helps, as it calms me down on a deeper level. This mindset is more helpful for me than a technique could be.