I have stage fright, what do I do?

Answer 1

You can beat it or live with it and make it work for you:

"Personally, I am always very nervous when I begin to speak. Every time I make a speech I feel I am submitting to judgment, not only about my ability but my character and honor. I am afraid of seeming either to promise more than I can perform, which suggests complete irresponsibility, or to perform less than I can, which suggests bad faith and indifference.—Cicero*

Fear is, perhaps, the ultimate proof that all of us are created equal. Your turn to speak, and suddenly your mouth turns to cotton, your throat is a desert, your voice cracks, your armpits are dripping faucets, your legs are concrete blocks, your heart is running a marathon. In study after study, decade after decade, when people are asked to rate their biggest fears, number one is always speaking before a group of people. You, too, get scared? So what: Everyone does. Even Cicero!

Most people assume that professional actors and lecturers have built up an immunity to stage fright. In fact, most actors dread stepping into the lights as much as you do, probably even more, because their careers are riding on it. The great American actress Helen Hayes claimed she used to routinely throw up before making her first entrance in a play. Anthony Hopkins has revealed that he, too, is inclined to get sick to his stomach before going onstage. I recently read an interview with Jane Fonda in which she explained why she was quitting acting: “The older I got and the more experience I had under my belt, the more fearful I got. I don’t want to be scared anymore.” The daily terror that dogged her brief appearance on the New York stage in The Vagina Monologues sealed her decision to pack it in. “I was praying I would be hit by a car,” explained the two-time Academy Award winner.

I have been performing in public since I was a teenager, and every single time I’m about to walk onstage or before the cameras, I have been scared. Of what? Let me tell you a story: In 1973 I was onstage in what was then the Uris Theatre on West Fifty-first Street in New York, in one of the early scenes of the opening-night performance of the Broadway musical Seesaw. I was standing in a phone booth on one side of the stage, and my costar Michele Lee was standing in an apartment set on the other side. My character was new in town, had just been mugged, and was calling the only person he knew in New York, a girl he had met earlier in a bar. The conversation was supposed to be awkward, but the dialogue was written to be delivered with a quick back-and-forth rhythm: I said something, she said something, I responded, she responded, I reacted, bing-bang. And so it went—until a stage lightbulb popped or flickered as Michele said a line. From my phone booth, there was a pause longer and more awkward that we had ever rehearsed. I had gone blank. That flash of light had derailed me, and I lost my next line. Immediately, I was hit with a wave of stage fright, the worst in my life (this was my first starring role “above the title” in a Broadway musical), and then, mercifully, the line returned to my stunned brain, and I said it. I don’t think the audience even sensed that they were watching a career in the balance. After the performance, I asked Michele Lee if she had noticed. “Notice?” she exclaimed. “My heart stopped!” Every actor has forgotten a line, and knows it can happen again. The fear comes from dreading that moment when you are unable to answer the question “What comes next?” You have rehearsed for weeks, you are in the middle of the play, and suddenly something distracts you—a stage light blows, someone is talking in the audience, you look into the eyes of your costar and her nose drips from her cold—and you “go dry” or “go up” or, my favorite, of unknown origin, “go to Cleveland.” (Just writing about not knowing my lines onstage is enough to get my own heart pounding.) Many actors have a recurring dream of forgetting their lines or saying them perfectly but in the wrong play. Opening nights always incite the most terror. Producers were often surprised to find me, a few minutes before curtain, perfectly calm and discussing the future of the New York Knicks with a stagehand. What they didn’t know was that after the show, I would retreat to my dressing room, where I would begin to shake and get very emotional, sometimes to the point of even crying a little. I had survived another opening night as an actor, and the relief was as if I had just avoided a major train wreck. After one opening, I actually threw up. When the comedian Fred Allen was asked why he always gulped down a tumbler of bourbon before his first entrance, he deadpanned: “You don’t expect me to go out there alone, do you?”

My goal in this book is to make sure that when you go out there you do not feel so alone. I intend to provide you with so much support that when you appear in public, you will not choke on the pressure. I have devoted this first chapter to the obstacle that everyone must get by in order to be successful in public: controlling the fear. In a sense, this entire book is about dealing with the inevitability of performance anxiety. The ultimate protection from nerves comes from being so well prepared that you will be a relaxed and confident speaker—the subject of the following chapters. But to get from here to there, you first have to deal with the fear. The challenge is to rein in that fear, ride it, and turn it from something that can hurt you into your ally. No matter how scared you may feel at the prospect of stepping into the limelight, you don’t have to be wired or medicated. You don’t even have to throw up to be good. The primary goal in any performance is to be alive up there, real. Good actors seem to be making it up as they go along, and so should a good speaker, presenter, or job candidate. Performance anxiety stiffens you, makes you seem unreal and robotic. I can help you become more like yourself in public—there are techniques to infuse spontaneity and life into a performance—but I cannot promise to remove the fear.

THE FEAR IS A GOOD THING—HONEST

That tingle taking over your body signals that what you are about to do matters, and if it matters to you, it is likely to matter to your audience. When you’re on, you want to be, well . . . on. To do that, you will need all the energy you can muster. What distinguishes expert performers and speakers from those who obviously want to be elsewhere is that when they step into the spotlight, they are never alone. But it is not a stiff drink they have on their side; it is their fear. They have learned how to keep the knots in their stomachs from spreading and immobilizing their hands, their throats, or their minds. Instead, they are able to turn the tension into a kind of energy bar from which they can take a bite at any point during a performance. The same anxiety that can immobilize you can also increase your intensity in public. When certain speakers strike you as having more zing, as being so pumped that their enthusiasm becomes yours, they are most probably turning their performance anxiety into an advantage.

To be sure, talented speakers have lots of other things going for them. They are smart, funny, moving; above all, they know what they are doing. I will show you how you, too, can be all of that by breaking down your performance into what you are doing from moment to moment. The more ammunition you have, the more relaxed you will be. But you still have to deal with the anxiety to make it useful. Professional performers know that if you aren’t scared, you aren’t likely to be any good. The better you get at speaking—the more your reputation grows as a skilled communicator—the higher the stakes get, and the more anxious you are likely to become about blowing it. (Athletes, too, feed off their fear of failure. In today’s New York Times sports page, Tiger Woods says, “The day I’m not nervous when I tee off is the day I quit. In my mind, that’s the day you don’t care anymore.” Those downhill ski racers in the Olympics are amazing, but they are also scared; that’s what helps them get to the bottom of the course so fast, and in one piece.)"

I used to have it, too. I took Speech classes and volunteered for parts in school plays.
Now I teach and have no stage fright anymore.

Answer 2

Most fears can be conquered through desensitization/positive visualization. Face the fear a little at a time and work your way up to a more normal level of confidence/anxiety. This really works well for stage fright. I have coached students who could not present their papers in front of a class. By going through the suggested excersizes, most succeeded beautifully. Some folks are so far gone that even thinking about working on their problem triggers anxiety.

But first. Beta blocker medication can completely squelch the fight-or-flight response. This kills the feedback loop that is interpreted as anxiety. It works REALLY well. See a psychiatrist for assistance. Many will prescribe even though it's not specifically FDA approved for this usage.

Back to desensitization/positive visualization.

So you start out in your mind visualizing yourself on stage, confident and successful. Continue to do this with as much detail and realism you can muster. Continue to visualize yourself succeeding. If you notice butterflies, that's OK. Make a mental note about the sensation. Divorce the sensation from the fear. Merely observe the the sensation of anxiety and move on.

You can ratchet things up a bit by practicing with a tape recorder or video recorder again imagine success and visualize the actual event in detail.

Ratchet it up again with a few friends. Make it a formal dress rehearsal to make thing more realistic. Even if things aren't perfect it's important to remain positive.

Good luck!

Answer 3

ok. so im probably one of the most shy people. ever.

but im on the forensics team (public speaking team) and in plays and stuff. (go figure.)

so my stage fright pretty much ended when i got up on the stage for the first time. i decided to just go for a big role and hope i got over my stage fright. i guess what i did was just get it into my head that you look alot stupider if you get up on the stage and are shy and stuff. If your over dramatic and really loud and everything, you look much cooler. People are like ... wow they were good. but if your shy people just think that you shouldnt be there.

Basically. just be really overdramatic and soon it will feel natural. its pretty hard at first. (ok practically impossible) but just do it.

Answer 4

Conquer the stag!

I am a professional story tell, and every time I begin a story in front of people or even my family I am scared. But I have used that fright to keen my energy into the character that I am using or the story I am telling. And after about 30 seconds to one minute, it is gone. Use the energy to your benefit. It will make you a better performer.

Answer 5

I don't see why celebs would need to get on a site like this but anywayz yes I get stage fright. I always turn bright red. And I freeze if there's a lot of ppl watching.

Answer 6

There are exercises in most Speech textbooks that give you tips on getting past that.

A good way to practice is to get in front of a group of people and have them ask you casual questions. Just answer them naturally, it's fine to say "I don't know".

Do that a few times, then move up to telling little stories, or reading aloud from a children's book.

The best practice is just getting up there and facing your fear. Remember, someday you won't be afraid, so act like you aren't now. Fake it till you make it.

Answer 7

Get over it. If you have talent enough to be up on stage...90% of the audience can't even begin to do what you have been given as a gift. Good luck.

Answer 8

The number one situation people fear is speaking in front of an audience. Just imagine everyone sitting there in their underwear. Works everytime.

Answer 9

Picture, in your mind everybody sitting on a toilet. They are vulnerable and scared, you are in control.I am a very shy guy, bu

Answer 10

breath and then just think that is not you there but the character you are playing :D worked for me.

Answer 11

Act like you don't.