The Stage Fright Facade

---

Nervous shivers traveled up and down my spine. This would be the grandest performance of my 7-year-old life. Sensing the anxiety, my violin teacher said something that changed my little life forever.

“They won’t notice any mistakes if you act like you didn’t make any.”

It worked like magic.

From a young age, I learned what every performer has mastered: my fellow choir kids lip-syncing during choir performances, my orchestra conductor making circles whenever she was lost in her music, my classmates plagiarizing a YouTube skit for a class play assignment.

They fooled us all.

A few of my own tricks included nearly breaking the Auburn Academy elevator and starting fights between classmates, then backing out as if I had nothing to do with the drama (by fights I really just mean bickering arguments that disrupted the classroom since we were an SDA school). My innocent reputation remained unscathed through it all.

Despite my facades, there was one person I could never fool.

My violin teacher.

Every week she asked the dreaded question, “Did you practice?” Either answer led to shame. “No?” An on-the-spot reprimand. “Yes?” She’d find me out as soon as I’d start playing.

One time I tried to fool her and said “Yes”.

“Oh great Aaron! Let’s see your progress,” she responded with glee.

I took a deep sigh and intensely focused on the notes that would command my performance. Slowly, I placed my bow on the string, hearing the soft melodies sing in my head. Thing is, I played in the wrong key. Also, I had absolutely no rhythm. Then I missed notes and had to repeat those measures I messed up on. I stumbled through the longest three measures of my life until my teacher decided to end the suffering.

“You didn’t practice, did you?”

---

People can tell if you’re fronting, at least if they want to. In the long run, you’ll only fool the ones who don’t care. This is because most of our lives are not lived as performances. Our lives are raw and unfiltered, more like a rough draft than a final product. Anyone who does enough introspection knows this. We all have embarrassing moments (some of us many). Some of us even carry shame due to our past. And since we can’t shake off that shame, we hide it like skeletons in the closet.

For example, one day I found myself in a relationship (that’s already a red flag). You can’t/shouldn’t act your way through one of those. But I didn’t want to expose my mistakes, my character flaws, or my deep, hidden wounds. So, I became a hypocrite, an actor, hoping she wouldn’t notice. And just like those violin lessons, I couldn’t hide for long.

Every time we were out on a date, she asked for the raw, unfiltered me. During every phone call she wanted to know the honest, genuine me. But my perfect façade acted as a wall deflecting every attempt to penetrate my soul. Needless to say, I'm a single pringle now.

There is Another who wants a relationship with us. Except He already sees past our perfect facade. This is why the Bible says, “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness”.

Confessing is simply exposing our imperfections. It’s showcasing the raw, unfiltered versions of ourselves. We can’t fool God with our acts. He cares too much for that. God isn’t impressed by our grand performances because He knows that’s all it is, a performance.

But then, if God already knows, why do we need to tell Him through confession?

---

“No, I didn’t practice,” I confessed this time during our lesson.

Funny thing is, my violin teacher didn’t throw me out of the classroom (probably because my parents were her paycheck).

Yes, she sternly stressed the importance of practicing. But she didn’t say I was a hopeless violinist, doomed to always be out of tune and never to learn vibrato. After her small spiel, my violin teacher asked how far I had gotten with the piece. Then, we worked on it together.

And you know what? I did master that piece.

I think confession is a lot like that.

I think God’s a lot like that.