Putting on a show.

Everyone puts on a performance from time to time.

We attend job interviews and brazenly emphasise our career highlights, meekly serve disrespectful customers and dutifully stay up all night finishing the project that our boss is waiting for.

We meet our in-laws and make sure we’re on our best behaviour. Perhaps we even withhold a few of our stronger opinions. Then we go to the networking function after we’ve been at work all day and discuss industry events, when we’d rather be discussing anything else.

In many situations in life, we’re actors. We stop ourselves from expressing strong emotions or saying what we really think and take actions that we would prefer not to take. Whether we’re restraining ourselves somehow or acting in a way that isn’t quite aligned with our natural selves, we do this to increase our chances of achieving our goals and to strengthen and preserve our relationships.

Part of the work I do is to deliver training and facilitate workshops. As an introverted person, this requires me to engage in a degree of acting too. While I’m generally interested and invested in the topics I deliver, I’m not usually one to stand up and talk for most of the day, and being the centre of attention is not my natural state.

When I write articles or create podcasts for my work website, Thoughtful Leader, I’m performing too. Not because I don’t believe in what I’m writing or saying, but because I need to deliver content that falls into the “leadership” category. That’s what the audience wants and expects, even if on one particular day, I’m not really in the mood to think about that particular topic.

Just be yourself.

Sometimes we try to comfort people by telling them to just be themselves. It’s a little bit of a strange thing to say, because it’s impossible to be somebody else.

Of course, what we really mean by using this phrase is that we want people to stop pretending to be someone they aren’t. We want them to let their personality shine through, instead of being an artificial copy of something they feel they ought to be.

This idea is comforting because it’s much easier to let our guard down and stop pretending to have a certain personality, unique opinions or a particular sense of humour.

But then – when we say this, we don’t really want people to be themselves. We want them to be themselves within a bounding box. When we tell someone to be themselves at a job interview, we still expect them to dress appropriately, speak politely and to act professionally… but with just a dash of their own sense of humour, personal style or personality thrown in.

Even in the closest of relationships there will sometimes be a degree of performance as you attempt to listen attentively to your partner describing their horrible day, even though you’ve just walked in the door after experiencing your own nightmare eight hours.

What’s the cost of all this acting?

Putting on a performance can be exhausting. It takes significant mental energy to become the person that’s required to suit a given situation. Not always because you don’t believe in what you’re doing or saying, but because it’s not necessarily how you would naturally carry yourself in that specific moment.

But for a minute, let’s consider the cost of failing to perform. Failing to moderate or adapt your behaviour, and instead letting your natural self come out.

I noticed something interesting during and following the Covid pandemic. Signs started to appear in shopping centres. Signs about treating staff with respect, and that violence against staff members is not acceptable.

When I first saw these signs, I was shocked. Who is walking around abusing staff members… to the extent that a sign needs to be displayed to every customer? But every sign has a story, and it seems that this sort of behaviour became much more prevalent during the pandemic when stress levels were at their peak.

This highlights the benefit of performance. When we restrain ourselves and moderate our behaviour in the face of stress, fear and anger, we provide a service to others. To follow our natural instincts in these moments is not useful, and puts both ourselves and others at risk.

So we can see that performing is not always a bad thing – in fact, it’s required if we’re going to be able to live in relative peace and freedom.

Of course, it’s not always about holding yourself back from slapping somebody. We might show restraint by withholding a hurtful comment or a strong opinion in situations where it’s not constructive, either for us, or another person.

However, I think all this acting and restraint does come at a cost.

To be a perfectly-behaved, restrained and courteous human at all times – even in the face of strong emotions – takes effort. The more we are required to put on a performance, the more draining it tends to be.

And if we find ourselves feeling unable to reveal our natural selves for much of our days, the pressure is likely to build. Until eventually, an unwanted comment or behaviour may just slip out.

How much should we perform?

We can see that performance is not all bad. There’s a case to be made that performing helps to hold society together. A nation whose citizens suddenly gave in to all of their natural impulses seems like a probable catastrophe. In a world where cost of living pressures are increasing, it wouldn’t be ridiculous to imagine that civility would quickly dissipate and behaviour would devolve into fisticuffs.

It also seems to me that if we’re always feeling pressure to perform in some way – to put on a face – then we’re under a constant degree of residual stress, which would tend to erode our wellbeing.

So there appears to be a happy medium to be struck. A degree of performance that occurs to fulfil our own goals and to maintain order, but not to the degree that we feel we can never really let go.

There’s a reason why people love pets – and I think it’s because when you’re around your pet, you can pretty much say and do whatever you want, without experiencing a lick of judgement. But a life without people can feel empty and hollow, even if your pets show you unconditional love more readily than humans do (or at least love that is only conditional on providing food).

I think there’s real value in auditing our close relationships. Our friends, family, neighbours and close colleagues. To what extent do you feel that you can be your natural self when you are associating with these people? Do you feel the need to withhold opinions, or can you say what you feel? Do you find yourself suppressing emotions, or do you never really feel the need to do so?

There’s value in expanding this to consider your social circles too. These are the places where you go to engage in your interests, hobbies or to develop your skills. Do you find yourself wearing a mask, or are you able to reveal your natural, normal self in these settings?

It’s true that social connection can improve our health and reduce the risk of a premature death. But it’s worth considering the quality of these connections. There’s a tension between forcing yourself to connect, and feeling the need to perform while doing so.

I wonder if the research is so conclusive about connecting with people – whether they are friends, family or otherwise – where you feel the need to perform, to show restraint, and to behave in ways that depart from your natural self?

Perhaps it’s best to live a life which maximises your opportunities to let your guard down, express your real opinions and to be able to step down from the stage.