All the World’s a Stage

Erika Gray
October 25, 2021

As musicians, we are no strangers to the stage, and with the evolution of social media, Will’s notable “All the world’s a stage” has become increasingly relevant. If there’s anything we’ve learned from being on stage, it’s that we know how to read our audiences; we are acutely aware of what resonates with them and do our best to provide them with that. Social media is no different; we know what performs well so we proudly share, and rightfully so, the successes of our auditions, competitions, and the highlights of performances, which are expectedly celebrated.

In a way that we don’t have on a concert hall stage, we do have complete control of our online stage. We can conveniently construct the moments exactly how we want to preserve them, romanticized and absent of any flaws that may have been present at the time. We’re mindful that every post clarifies a piece in our Self puzzle and after choosing carefully what to share with our audience, the picture understandably reveals the reflection of our idealized Self. Social media gives us the power to manipulate our reflection of Self and put forth just the polished pieces of ourselves, with the unspoken understanding that those polished pieces will keep coming.

The idea of perfection is stitched in the modern musician’s mentality and anything that seems to challenge that poses as potentially damaging to the way our Self is perceived. Someone recently told me that based on my social media they would never guess some behind-the-scenes reality. It’s true, I keep my stuff polished to the point of mirage. We all do this to an extent to stay in control and protect ourselves, but that fear of not meeting expectations perpetuates a harmful cycle of assumed invulnerability: others respect the curated pieces of our intentionally crafted Self and we are left scrutinizing what we’ve left undisclosed against the polished framework of others.

Though the aim is to protect ourselves, we end up abandoning that by not being kind to ourselves in the way we approach comparison, whether it’s comparing our shortcomings to the successes of others, or measuring up our full Self to someone’s portrayal of their idealized Self. Our own experiences begin to exist in singularity from the absence of personal sharedness within a community. A myriad of valid reasons explain these online walls, but the effect of boundless best-picked moments inevitably isolates us when vulnerability is neglected: authenticity yields as we reflect our idealized Selves at the expense of our real, full Selves.

Relatability reassures us that we aren’t alone and invites a conversation of mutual understanding around a topic, an understanding that we wouldn’t find without an initial gesture of openness. The standard of life will remain glamorized within the repetition of toxic comparatism if we continue to let shame and the fear of rejection reign the narrative of our real experiences. Taking leadership of one’s Self inspires a unity amidst the ranks and the power gained fuels a healthy movement, newly alive as a collective and with a resurgence of harmonious vulnerability.