Is it me?
I’m a stand–up comedian. I’ve had the privilege of performing at some cracking venues: some of the most respected clubs in the country. I have videos of these gigs, and they’re good—no, scratch that, they’re great. I’ve got proof that I can do the job.
But every time I apply to gig for a club I haven’t worked for before, I get this ridiculous fear. You know that scene in Schitt’s Creek with the “Little Bit Alexis” audition? Where Alexis is giving it her all and you can see the panel cringing? That’s me in my head when I send off my gig applications. I imagine the bookers watching my videos, eyebrows raised, thinking, “What is she doing?”
It’s absurd, really. I mean, these are videos from gigs where you can see and hear the audience laughing, clapping, cheering…. Yet, the moment I hit “send” on an application, I’m convinced they’re watching my clips like it’s an episode of Britain’s Got Talent and I’m the awkward one that you sit at home going, “Oh, you’d think her family or friends would’ve stopped her before it got this far, wouldn’t you?”
We’re still outnumbered on the comedy circuit, us “female comedians”. I feel like some promoters play it safe, and, if I’m honest—from a business point of view, much as it pains me to admit it—I kind of get it. Audiences are more likely to welcome a bloke onto the stage without a second thought. If he’s not to their taste or whatever, they’ll just put it down to, “He was a bit rubbish,” or, “I didn’t get his stuff, did you?” or similar. If it’s a woman though,… Oh god, when you walk on and you see the crossed arms and some of the “Ugh, it’s a woman…” faces, before you’ve even opened your mouth. It’s not fair, but life generally isn’t. Just sometimes, sometimes, it feels like such a battle.
And then there’s the age thing. I’m in my early 50s now. (That still feels mad to write. Can someone check? Because I’m sure I was just 26. I’ve lost a lot of time somewhere. If you see it, just hand it in and I’ll pick it up. Thanks.) But here’s the thing: when I look at the line–ups at the bigger clubs, most of the women are younger. Not always, but mostly. So, I start wondering: is it because I’m older? Does my age make me less bookable?
Comedy, like many entertainment fields, has a bit of a youth obsession. You see it in the media, in TV shows, and, yes, in comedy line–ups. There’s this perception that younger equals funnier or more relatable. And that can make someone like me feel a bit, well, invisible.
But THEN comes the spiral. Because… maybe I’m just not good enough. Maybe I’m blaming my gender or age when, really, I should be looking at my act. It’s this exhausting mental dance where I wonder if I’m the problem.
At the end of the day, what else can I do but keep going? I love comedy. It’s what I do, and I think I’m good at it. People who know what they’re doing don’t book me just to be nice, right? Audiences aren’t laughing out of pity, are they? Oh god, they’re not, are they?? I suppose I have to try and think of every gig, every application, as a little victory over that voice in my head telling me I don’t belong.
I remind myself of the gigs that went well, the clubs that have me back. They’re not just being polite—they’re booking me because I can make people laugh. And that’s the whole point, isn’t it?
The very idea that someone watching my application video might be thinking, “What is she doing?” is so far removed from the reality of those gigs, and yet still a horrific prospect. But people laugh In a good way!). People have a good time! This constant, mental to–ing and fro–ing is exhausting!
So, yeah, I’ll keep applying, keep performing, and keep proving to myself (and maybe even to those imaginary judges in my head) that I’ve earned my place on that stage. Everyone has moments of doubt, right? Maybe not everyone, but most of us, I think?
Bottom line: when an audience laughs, that’s the validation I need. It’s not about being the youngest or the most bankable; it’s about connecting with people and making them laugh.
I suppose I’ll just keep doing that then.
Listen to my Avoid Excessive Cleavage podcasts.
Find out where I’m going to be performing soon.