Self-Love and Why it's a Prerequisite to Great Acting

Actors are some of the most self-conscious people on the planet. I make that statement not as a criticism, but simply as a fact. And how can we not be? We are constantly being looked at, critiqued, evaluated, scrutinized, oftentimes based solely on our appearances. Auditions, at least once upon time (prior to the self-tape revolution), would mean walking into a room full of people, standing before a camera, and baring our souls in the hopes that we deliver the material in a way that will “win the approval” of the director and producers. We leave asking ourselves, “Was I good enough? Did they like me?” We think, “Maybe I should have delivered that line in a different manner, made a better choice.” And then we wait for the phone to ring, hoping it’s our agent calling with good news, informing us that we were called-back because the casting director liked what they saw. When it doesn’t happen, we get more in our heads, telling ourselves “I’m not talented enough. I’m not attractive enough. I’m not good enough.” If we do “make it,” landing the callback, booking the role, then we need to impress all over again, this time on set. We are placed before the lights, the cameras, the film crew, all relying on us to deliver a performance that will “sell the scene” in an authentic manner. We have a finite amount of takes due to budgetary and time restraints. The scene may require us to cry, and we need to cry before lunch is called or else meal penalties will go into effect. The pressure is on. But we give it our all. And we leave thinking once more, “Was I good enough?” Then the project drops and the public views it for the first time. Will they like it? Will they approve of my performance? Will the critics write laudatory reviews of how wonderful I am in the scene? Or will they destroy me…? The best case scenario happens and the project is a huge success, a hit, and your career blows up. As a result you land more and more projects, going through the cycle all over again, of proving your worth in the audition room, at the callback, at the screen test, and finally on set. People continue to “approve” of your work, which in your head translates to “they approve of me.” You become a household name and are now permanently in the public eye. Now everything you do is examined with a microscope. You cannot not be evaluated and scrutinized on a routine basis, by your colleagues and peers, by directors and studios, and by the public. Your life has become one giant game of being “liked.” And being liked becomes synonymous with your self-worth. If we do not have a solid sense of self, this process becomes exhausting. Having to constantly prove ourselves as “someone else,” as the character we are playing or the persona we are conveying to the public eye, will destroy us if the core of who we are is not solid and in tact. We must be able to rely on knowing exactly who we are at all times, in any situation, under any circumstances, while the pressure is palpable. And the best way to do this is to develop and practice self-love. Without self-love, we collapse- into neediness, overwhelm, and the desperate hunger to be chosen. We being to perform emotion rather than feel it, to chase validation rather than truth. As some point we stop seeing ourselves through our own eyes and star seeing ourselves through the eyes of our peers, critics, the industry, the culture. We perform ourselves instead of inhabiting ourselves. Self-love fades because we forget who is doing the looking. We stop loving ourselves because we confuse worth with performance. We learn, “I am loved when I succeed. I am valued when I impress. I am safe when I’m chosen. I matter when I’m good.” So the heart becomes conditional, transactional, and contingent. Without self-love we do not allow ourselves the permission to be vulnerable. Vulnerability matters because it’s the gateway to truth. In life, it’s what makes relationships real. In acting, it’s what makes a performance alive. Without vulnerability, both intimacy and art collapse into performance, control, and distance. When you’re vulnerable, you’re honest. When you’re honest, you’ve congruent. And when you’re congruent, you’re powerful. More powerful than you ever would be relying on “acted emotion” and performance. Audiences do not respond to “acted emotion.” They respond to felt emotion. Vulnerability is the actor’s version of oxygen- without it, nothing breathes. To be vulnerable we need to know and love ourselves in a way that allows us to stay permeable. Permeability results in performances that are compelling and authentic. But without self-love permeability leads to chaos and confusion. We need that steady center, a place we can return to that is safe, familiar, sturdy. It is the place where our beliefs, values, strengths, hopes, dreams, and thereby our confidence, all reside. This place is who we are, at our core, and it is from this place that we create. If we love ourselves in a way that strengthens and protects this core, then the art of becoming someone else (the characters we portray), whether in life or in front of a camera, will be authentic and thus resonate with others. When we as actors practice self-love, we are not inflating ourselves. We are tending to the part of ourselves that makes our work feel alive, sensual, truthful, and human. We have a core sense of self that allows us to walk into an audition room and know that, no matter what the outcome, we are no less lovable, no less capable, no less powerful because we were not called back. Self-love allows us to shout “I know what I’m doing. I know why I’m here.” Self-love is the antidote to approval-seeking. We can confidently walk through life knowing that we are enough. Knowing this, we can, in turn, love life, love the world. And the world, in turn, loves to watch someone who is fully alive.