Late last year, I performed in an All-Stars show at a festival. The cast was packed with improvisers I admired and loved. I was really excited for it. The show began and it became apparent very quickly that the dominant format was going to be quick, funny, clever improv. It moved at a thousand miles an hour, jumping from character to concept to location at a dizzying pace.

Reader, I couldn’t keep up. I couldn’t overclock my brain to the necessary processor speed it would have taken to run alongside my brilliant colleagues. It was like I was moving in slow motion, as all around me civilisations rose and fell, mad queens danced on golden thrones, the stars spun crazily above and the seasons changed with a kaleidoscopic fervour. No sooner had I got to grips with one game of the scene than a flurry of tag outs had me lost again.

I despaired in that moment. Generally, I have a pretty positive opinion of myself. Not conceited, you understand, I aim for the sweet spot between confidence and arrogance when it comes to self-regard. But this show floored me. I felt less than. I exited that stage despondent, feeling the worst feeling an improviser can feel - that the show had been excellent but that I had personally contributed nothing to it. I genuinely think that’s much worse than everyone having a bad show - at least misery loves company.

Later on in the same festival, I had the opportunity to play a slow, theatrical, relationship-based show. It was entirely in my wheel-house and it flew. It was glorious. It was everything I want improv to be. And I left that stage floating six-feet off the ground in utter joy.

The same improviser. At the same festival. Within days of each other.

I think if this tells us anything, it tells us that we shouldn’t judge ourselves too harshly as artists. Nor should we become over-confident in our successes. It’s said in improv circles that if you have a bad show, you are only allowed to be sad for as long as you were on stage. The flip side being, if you have a good show, you can only glow with smug satisfaction for the same timeframe.

I recently watched a video by Tiktok user the_holistic_mystic that talked about confidence and self-doubt in a new way that I found very helpful. Essentially, it goes like this.

Think about your skill as an improviser. There will be people who are better than you, and also people who have yet to achieve your level. It’ll look something like this.

YOU!

That line in the middle is YOU! Intellectually, you know that there are a lot of people below you on the skill index and that should give you confidence.

I AM MORE THAN THIS! (Confidence)

Similarly, there are people who are definitely more accomplished, and that teaches you humility.

I AM LESS THAN THIS (humility)

All of that is brilliant and healthy. You have perspective. You are in balance. The problem comes when you start convincing yourself that you are more accomplished than you actually are (perhaps after a particularly good show). Then it looks like this.

I AM THIS (arrogance)

Your opinion of yourself is out of balance with reality, and to shore up that imbalance you begin looking at the people below you and using them as your metric of self-worth. I AM BETTER THAN THIS! becomes I AM BETTER THAN THEM! As soon as your opinion of yourself is wrapped up in a comparison with others, you are on extremely shaky ground, my friends. All it takes is one bad show to knock you off your precarious perch and suddenly you begin thinking you’re worse than you actually are. That looks like this.