Why Pretending You Belong Is the First Step to Actually Belonging

 There’s this weird thing that happens when you chase a dream: You constantly feel like you’re playing dress-up in someone else’s shoes. Whether you’re walking into an audition, launching a new creative project, or even just introducing yourself as a writer/actor/artist/etc., there's a tiny voice whispering, “Who do you think you are?”

That voice is loud. But it’s also lying.

“Fake it til’ you book it” isn't about being fake. It’s about believing before the world does. It’s about choosing to show up—even when your knees shake. It’s about introducing yourself as an artist before the paycheck validates it. It's about saying "I'm a writer" even if no one's read your book yet.

Every booking, every break, every big opportunity—starts with someone deciding they were ready enough. And usually, they weren’t. They were scared. They were unsure. But they showed up anyway.

So here’s your reminder:
You don’t need permission.
You don’t need to be perfect.
You just need to be brave enough to show up.

Pretend you belong in the room—until you start believing it.
Eventually, others will too. And guess what? You’ll book it.

Keep faking it. Keep showing up. Keep saying yes before you feel ready.
Because ready is a feeling that shows up late—but only after you’ve already walked through the door.

You’ve got this.
See you on set.
Or on the page.
Or center stage.

 Wrapping It Up (Before I Spiral Again)

So there you have it. A motivational pep talk disguised as a sarcastic rant—because that’s how we cope around here.

Now it’s your turn:
Have you ever faked your way into a gig? Said “yes” to a role, then Googled “how to act natural” in the parking lot? Or maybe you’re just out here pretending to be emotionally stable on casting day (same).

Drop your favorite “I have no idea what I’m doing but look at me go” moment in the comments.
Because if we can’t laugh at ourselves, we might as well just cry into our audition blazers.

👇 Smash that comment section like it’s a callback email.
❤️ Follow for more semi-unhinged encouragement.
🔁 Share this with your favorite delusional dreamer.

Let’s keep faking it, together.
One overly confident eyebrow raise at a time.

Probably Writing This in Pajamas
Fake It Til’ You Book It

WEEKLY AMAZON REC:

This week’s must-have for the Delusional Dreamer’s Toolkit:

Mini Desk Gong

Because sometimes, words aren’t enough. Whether you just got ghosted by a casting director again, or you’re celebrating that callback you accidentally booked by blacking out in the audition room—this tiny gong says it all.

Ding it for drama. Ding it for motivation.
Or just ding it when your espresso hits.

You deserve theatrics. You are the moment.

 

The Art of Auditioning: Owning the Room Before You Even Speak

Auditioning is basically speed dating, except the person across from you holds your entire career in their hands and probably hasn’t had their coffee yet. Before you even utter a word, they’ve already decided whether you’re the second coming of Meryl Streep or just another name they’ll forget before lunch. So how do you make sure they remember you? You own the room like it’s your personal stage. Here’s how:

 

1. Enter Like You’re the Lead in a Biopic

Your audition starts the second you walk through that door. Don’t slink in like you accidentally stumbled into a board meeting. Walk in like you were sent by central casting to be “Confident Actor #1.” Stand tall. Shoulders back. No weird hesitations or apologetic shuffling. You belong here, even if your brain is screaming otherwise.

2. Your Energy Is Your Resume

Look, you don’t need to radiate Tom Cruise intensity (unless, of course, that’s your thing), but you do need to bring an energy that makes people pay attention. If you show up looking like you just got hit by a rogue existential crisis, casting directors will notice—just not in a good way. Even if you’re internally spiraling, fake the effortless charisma. It’s cheaper than therapy.

3. Eye Contact: Use It, But Don’t Terrify People

Confidence isn’t staring at someone like you’re trying to hypnotize them. It’s engagement, a casual yet intentional connection that says, Yes, I am here, I am fabulous, and you’re going to remember me. Find a balance—warm, present, but not like you're trying to steal their soul.

4. Body Language: Say It Without Saying It

Your body has its own script, and if you're slouched, fidgeting, or standing like a malfunctioning robot, you’re not selling leading-role energy. Plant your feet like you mean it. Open posture. No weird arm-crossing like you’re bracing for battle. Be comfortable in your skin, even if inside, your nervous system is plotting against you.

5. Grace Under Pressure: AKA, ‘Don’t Let Them See You Sweat’

Something will go wrong. You’ll trip over a chair. You’ll forget your line. You’ll start speaking before realizing the casting director is mid-sip in their coffee. The trick? Recover like a pro. Take a breath, reset, and never—NEVER—apologize for existing. That’s the difference between an amateur and a pro: one spirals, the other flips the mistake into a moment of brilliance.

6. Exit Like You Just Dropped the Mic

Your audition isn’t over when you say the last line—it’s over when you leave the room like a legend. No awkward hesitations. No speed-walking like you're escaping a crime scene. Just a casual, confident exit that says, You’re welcome for this moment. Leave an impression that lingers longer than that director’s burnt coffee.

Final Thoughts? Fake It. Book It. Repeat.

Owning the room isn’t about being the loudest, the flashiest, or the most obnoxious—it’s about knowing you’re worthy of being there. So, next time you walk into that audition, remind yourself: You don’t need permission to be memorable. You already are.

Now, I want to hear from you! What’s the wildest thing that’s happened to you in an audition? Ever walked in like a boss only to trip over a stray chair? Tell me your best (or worst) moments in the comments below! Let’s commiserate, laugh, and maybe even hype each other up.

If this post gave you a confidence boost (or at least made you chuckle), hit that subscribe button and join the chaos—I mean, the journey! Share this with a fellow actor who needs the reminder that they’ve got this.

See you next time, and remember: fake it ‘til you book it!

Weekly Amazon Rec:

  How to Stop Acting by Harold Guskin

Despite the title, this book is gold for actors looking to bring presence and authenticity to auditions. Guskin’s approach focuses on freeing yourself from rigid techniques and living in the moment—which is exactly what makes an audition unforgettable. If you want to walk in, take up space, and make an impact, this one's for you.

Snag a copy, throw out the over-rehearsed energy, and own that room before you even speak!

How to Bounce Back When Your Self-Esteem Takes a Nosedive (Without Crying in a Public Restroom)

 Ah, self-esteem. That delicate, wobbly tower of Jenga blocks we spend years carefully stacking—only for one bad audition, rejection email, or ill-timed comment from Aunt Linda to send the whole thing crashing down.

Maybe you flubbed a monologue. Maybe your manuscript got a “thanks, but no thanks” from a publisher who clearly has no taste. Maybe someone told you, “You’re so brave for wearing that,” and now you’re questioning every life choice that led you to this moment.

Whatever the cause, your confidence has taken a hit, and now you’re spiraling. But fear not! I’m here to guide you through the art of bouncing back—gracefully, dramatically, and with just the right amount of delusional optimism.

Step 1: Allow Yourself a Brief, Dramatic Meltdown

Listen, I’m not saying you should throw yourself onto a fainting couch and wail like a Victorian widow (unless that’s your vibe, in which case, respect). But a little wallowing is fine. Eat the sad snack. Watch the comfort show. Stare into the void for a bit.

Just set a timer. You get one evening of existential despair. After that, it’s time to get back to faking it.

Step 2: Remember That Everyone is Faking It

You think that wildly successful actor/writer/creative genius you admire has never doubted themselves? Please. They have entire teams dedicated to making them look confident. You, my friend, are just doing it solo.

Confidence isn’t about feeling like a star—it’s about acting like one. And lucky for you, acting is literally your thing. So slap on a metaphorical (or literal) wig and strut forward like you’ve never known self-doubt in your life.

Step 3: Reframe the Narrative

Did you bomb an audition? No, you gave them a performance so avant-garde they weren’t ready for it. Did your manuscript get rejected? No, you dodged a publisher who wouldn’t have appreciated your brilliance anyway. Did someone insult your outfit? No, you single-handedly introduced them to fashion-forward thinking, and they’re just scared.

See? You’re not failing—you’re just misunderstood.

Step 4: Do Something That Makes You Feel Like a Main Character

Confidence is 90% delusion and 10% good lighting. So do something that makes you feel like the star of your own movie. Wear something ridiculous. Take yourself on a solo date. Walk down the street listening to a playlist that makes you feel like you’re about to take over the world.

If you don’t believe in yourself yet, at least act like you do.

Step 5: Get Back to Work

The fastest way to rebuild confidence? Momentum. Write the next thing. Audition for the next role. Post the next piece of content. Keep moving forward like you’re a runaway train of unstoppable talent.

Because here’s the secret: You are talented. You are capable. And you will book it—if you keep showing up.

So dust yourself off, adjust your metaphorical crown, and get back out there. The world isn’t ready for you—but that’s their problem.

Final Thoughts: Let’s Talk About It

Alright, fellow confidence warriors—what’s the dumbest thing that ever tanked your self-esteem? A weirdly specific insult? A rejection that sent you into an identity crisis? A toddler telling you that you look “tired”? Drop your stories in the comments so we can all laugh (and heal) together.

And hey—if this post gave you even one ounce of delusional confidence, do me a favor: Share it with a friend who needs the pep talk, follow for more chaotic wisdom, and save it for the next time your self-esteem takes a nosedive.

Now go forth and fake it like your rent depends on it—because honestly, it probably does.

Weekly Amazon Rec:

Listen, rejection is basically a rite of passage in the acting world. If you haven’t been told “thanks, but no thanks” at least 47 times, are you even trying?

Luckily, Broadway veteran Nick Wyman has written Climbing Rejection Mountain —a book that helps actors navigate the emotional rollercoaster of rejection while keeping their self-esteem intact.

This book is packed with practical advice, hilarious anecdotes, and cartoons (because sometimes you need a laugh while questioning your life choices). It’s perfect for anyone who’s ever thought, “How do I get an agent?” or “How do I stop crying in my car after auditions?”

So, if your confidence is currently face-down in a puddle, grab this book, read it, and remind yourself that rejection is just a scenic detour on the way to success.

And hey—if you’ve ever had a rejection so ridiculous it deserves its own sitcom episode, drop it in the comments. Let’s commiserate.

I Rehearsed My Lines All Day. Then I Got on Stage and My Brain Logged out

There's a special kind of humiliation that only acting class can provide. It's like therapy, public speaking, and performance anxiety had a chaotic little baby - and then that baby grew up and personally targeted you.

So, here's what happened.

I had a little monologue. A good little monologue. One of those "this is going to get me cast in something, maybe even a limited series on HULU" monologue. I had rehearsed it all day. At home. In the mirror. At stoplights. Whispering it to myself in Trader Joe's like a method actor trying to decide between sourdough and gluten-free.

I had it down. I was ready to blow minds in that little black box studio space.

Then I got up in front of class, took a deep breath, stepped into character, and . . .

Immediate lobotomy.

The words were gone. Not just misplaced- evaporated. I stood there, blinking into the abyss, while my classmates (including that one girl who acts every scene like she's auditioning for a lead role in a Lifetime movie called Cheated, Chained, and Chased: The Persephone Story) watched me crash and burn like a $12 candle in a wind tunnel.

I tried to recover. I threw out some vague paraphrasing. I confidently invented new lines that had zero connection to the original text. I made strong- if highly questionable- choices. There may have been an aggressive whisper. There was definitely a dramatic pause that lasted so long someone coughed in sympathy.

But the point being, I didn't walk off. I didn't cry. I didn't dissolve into a dramatic heap and beg the earth to swallow me whole.

I finished. God help me, I finished that trainwreck like it was part of the process. Like it was supposed to happen.

Because here's the thing they don't tell you in the "follow your dreams" brochures: You will bomb. And you will survive. And sometimes, you learn more form one face-plant of a performance than from ten flawless ones.

Acting class is where we fall apart so we can figure out how to pull it together. It's not about being perfect- it's about being real. Raw. Present. And occasionally, a hot mess.

So yeah, I forgot my little monologue. But I remembered something more important:

I'm still showing up. Still taking it. Still booking it. Even if I have to improvise every damn word.

So, here's what I learned: even when your brain betrays you and the lines vanish like a magician's assistant, you keep going. You take it till you book it. Or fake it. Or improv your way through a weird Shakespear-meets-Kardashians moment on stage.

Because the only real failure is stopping.

Next time? I'll rehearse just as hard. But I'll also leave room for grace, recovery, and the occasional on-stage brain fart. Because let's be honest: forgetting your lines isn't the worst thing that can happen.

Forgetting to show up for yourself? The real tragedy.

If you've ever crashed and burned in front of an audience (real or imagined), I wanna hear about it. Drop your biggest "forgot my lines and failed gloriously" moment in the comments - misery loves company, and hey, we're building a whole troupe of glorious trainwrecks here.

And if this made you laugh, cringe, or nod in painful recognition, give it a follow. There's more where this came from. Weekly meltdowns, minor victories, and survival tips from the actor's front lines.

Weekly Amazon Rec:

 This week's pick? Audition by Michael Shurtleff- it's like having a slightly intimidating yet brilliant acting coach living in your bag. I've underlined half the book and the other half is tear-stained and highlighted. "Every scene you will ever act beings in the middle, and it is up to you, the actor, to provide what comes before." -Michael Shurtleff, Audition.

In other words: your monologue might've gone off the rails, but if you build the truth before it, they'll still buy the ticket. (or at least not leaving during intermission.)

This book is brutally honest, wildly helpful, and filled with the kind of "tough love meets artistic gold" wisdom that ever actor needs-especially when your brain decides to throw your lines into the trash mid-performance.