Recently, I was interviewed on CTV Morning Live about my acting classes for seniors. It went fine. I wasn’t nervous, I didn’t blank out or say anything weird (I think). The host was lovely, and I made my points clearly. All in all, a perfectly respectable local TV interview.
And yet, there is absolutely no way I will ever watch it.
Not now. Not later. Not ever.
This isn’t modesty. I’m confident in what I do. I know how to hold my own in an interview, and I’ve been told I came across well. But the thought of hearing my own voice or seeing myself on screen later? That’s low-grade psychological torture.
Which got me thinking: how is it possible to feel secure in my abilities as a voice actor, actor, and performer… and simultaneously have a visceral aversion to experiencing my own work as an audience member?
I’ve been a voiceover artist for over a decade. I’ve voiced everything from commercials to corporate explainers to meditation scripts, and I can deliver a read with skill, nuance, and professionalism. But once it’s out there in the world? I don’t want to hear it. If a client sends back the final product with a note like “You sounded fantastic!” I’ll smile politely, say thank you… and not click play.
Editing is the exception. I can listen to myself then because I’m focused on the task; pacing, breath noise, tone adjustments. I’m in work mode. It’s a job, not a performance. But once that context is removed and I’m simply a “listener”? Hard pass.
It’s the same story with my weekly radio show. I genuinely enjoy doing it. I prep it well, I think I’ve put together a good show, and I often leave the studio feeling energized. But would I ever listen back to the recording? Absolutely not. If the station played a clip unexpectedly, I’d fake a sudden need to leave the room—“Oh no, my cat’s on fire again!” And if one of the commercials I voiced comes on, I either have to talk through it or make an extremely witty comment like “this hack again?”.
It doesn’t stop with audio. I’ve been in countless plays and musicals over the years. I’ve gotten great feedback, and I know my performances have been strong. But videos of those performances? Unwatchable. I will go to comical lengths to avoid them. If someone pulls out their phone and says, “I recorded your solo!” I will consider joining the Witness Protection Program.
So what is this contradiction? How can I be confident in my work and simultaneously allergic to witnessing it?
Part of it, I think, is that once I’ve done the thing, whether it’s a voiceover, a scene, or an interview, it’s over. It lived in that moment. I did my best. Anything I could have fixed or improved is no longer fixable, so why subject myself to a post-mortem? I know someone out there is saying “there’s always room for improvement, listen and learn”. I get it, but nope.
Another part is that watching or listening to myself often turns me into a weird, hypercritical mutant version of myself. Suddenly I have 27 opinions about my eyebrow placement, my mouth sounds, or why I pronounced “pasta” like a Canadian trying to sound American. It’s not helpful, and it’s definitely not fun.
But the heart of it is this: performance, for me, is about giving. I love doing the work, sharing it, putting it out there. But once it’s out, it belongs to the audience. I don’t need to be one of them.
So no, I won’t be watching my interview on CTV Morning Live. But I’m still proud I did it.
And if you saw it and thought I did great? I believe you. Just don’t show me the clip. Please. For the love of all things holy.
If you’re a fellow performer and feel the same way; confident on the stage or behind the mic, but allergic to playback, let me know. Maybe we can form a support group. But we’ll all have to promise never to listen to each other.
