This time last year, I did something I never planned or expected to do.
I signed up for acting lessons.
Not because I had dreams of becoming the next Cate Blanchett.
Not because I was trying to overcome a fear of public speaking. (I speak for a living).
And definitely not because I’d just turned 50 and needed to shake things up. (Though the timing is suspicious.)
I signed up for a creative stretch. Something out of my norm. Something just for the joy of it.
It was only ever going to be for one term. But one somehow stretched into three. Because, surprisingly, this class quickly became the highlight of my week… the perfect little 3-hour escape I didn’t know I needed. No work or family dramas to pull me away (phone always left safely in my car). Just me – and a bunch of strangers, giving something totally new a red-hot go.
And let me tell you, it was also bloody scary. Especially at first.
(Okay, that’s an understatement. My nerves were out of control. I’ll never forget my heart racing a million miles a minute as I walked up those stairs that first week. Why on earth did I ever think this was a good idea?)
But week by week, something shifted. I stopped gripping the script so tightly. I started listening more closely. And I began to notice all the ways this new ‘hobby’ of mine was bleeding into other parts of my life.
Here’s what acting school taught me… about being a real, messy, present human being.
Listen like it’s the first time
As a beginner actor, your brain is busy. You’re trying to remember your lines, hit your mark, do the thing. And in all that effort, it’s alarmingly easy to forget one crucial part of the scene: the other person.
After each class, we had to watch (and critique) a video of ourselves performing. The hardest part? Trying not to focus on how I looked – and actually pay attention to how I delivered the scene.
Once I finally managed to do that (mostly), something became really clear: I could see the difference between the times I was present… and the times I was just waiting for my turn to speak.
You see, one of the goals in acting is to respond as though you’re hearing your scene partner’s line for the first time (when in reality, you’ve heard it countless times). Because that’s what makes the scene feel real.
And after a few weeks, it struck me: how often in life do we think we know what someone’s going to say – and stop listening? How often do we focus on getting our part ‘right’… and miss what’s being offered to us in the moment?
Here’s the simple truth: Everything in life hinges on how well we listen – whether we’re on stage, in a boardroom or at the dinner table.
Find the freedom to stuff it up
As a business owner, trainer, parent and wife, it’s not often I give myself permission to get something – anything – wrong. Of course, I’m only human, which means I make mistakes all the time. But it’s not because I ever plan to give myself that grace.
So choosing to do something where messing up is part of the process – and actively encouraged? That felt vulnerable. Exposing.
But also strangely energising.
Because, as I discovered, when we step outside our usual roles – and stop trying to be polished and perfect – we make space to play. To try. To mess it up. To laugh a bit when we do. And to see what’s possible if we can just find a way to… let go.
There’s a kind of freedom in that. The kind most of us haven’t felt in years… probably not since we were kids. And once you tap back into it, it’s surprisingly addictive.
You can’t fake real
One of the most surprising lessons from acting? There’s no single ‘right’ way to perform a scene. You don’t get points for nailing the perfect tone or delivering your lines exactly like someone else would.
The scene is yours – and your job is to bring you to it.
Sounds freeing, right? It is. But it’s also terrifying.
Because even when I did land a scene – when it felt real – the absolute worst thing I could do was try to replicate it the next time. I learned quickly that the moment you try to recreate the magic, it vanishes.
And sure enough, the same is true in life: the most authentic moments happen when you stop clinging to the outcome and allow the moment to unfold.
That’s the difference between performing and connecting.
Wipe the slate before you take the stage
Before we got into things each week, we were told to ‘warm up’ – for a good 25 minutes.
Some people danced it out. Others lay on the floor breathing deeply. Me? I usually wandered around the room awkwardly and self-consciously until I found my rhythm.
There was no one way to do it, but everyone did something. Because, as we were taught, before you can step into someone else’s shoes, you need to connect with where you are, how you’re feeling – and what you’re carrying with you from the day.
I didn’t know it at the time, but those warm-ups were everything. They were a reset. A way to wipe the slate clean so we could show up fully, not just perform a role.
This made me realise how often I launch into important meetings and conversations with my colleagues and loved ones without checking in with myself first – and how much better these interactions might unfold if I got into the habit of doing so.
Maybe we all need to do a little more warming up before the real scenes of our lives?
So, would I recommend it? Absolutely. Okay, not necessarily acting. But something. Something that forces you to get out of your routine – and your comfort zone.
For me, that ‘something’ was three terms at a studio called Brave (fitting, right?). And while I didn’t leave with a showreel or 12-episode character arc on Neighbours, I did walk away a little looser – and a lot more connected. To others and to myself.
Now I’m eyeing off my next creative challenge. Do I go back for the more advanced Scene Study? Or throw myself into something else that’s piqued my interest: IMPROV?
Stay tuned…