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Caught Without the Pill: A Surprise Solo in a Major Opera House

Updated: Jan 10


Text reads "Without the Pill, With the Power: A Surprise Solo in a Major Opera House. A Client's Journey." Next to a music stand with sheet music.

This story is shared with care. To respect the client’s privacy, some details have been changed. The essence of their experience and the outcomes remain true.



When I first met this client, what stood out was not only the quality of their voice, but the steadiness and warmth they brought into conversation.


They were a classically trained opera singer with both a BA and MA in vocal performance, and over a decade of professional experience.


Their voice had agility, colour, and expressive range. They were already performing regularly as part of a respected opera choir...


But they hadn’t trained for years in order to remain in the chorus.


They wanted to sing arias. To take solo roles. To step into the center of the stage.


And yet, whenever a solo opportunity appeared, something inside them tightened.


Thoughts about judgment, mistakes, ridicule, and even technical failure would escalate quickly.


Anxiety would take over before they had a chance to orient themselves.



A Confidence-Shaking Turning Point


This wasn’t just about nerves.


Around the same time, a new voice teacher told them their technique needed to be rebuilt from the ground up.


After ten years of professional singing, that kind of feedback lands hard.


Understandably, it shook their confidence.


Even in lessons, anxiety began to show up physically:

Shallow breath. Dry mouth. A tremor in the sound...


What made it more painful was that none of this reflected their actual ability.


Their natural tone was beautiful. Their musical presence was compelling.


The gap between how they sounded and how they felt had become increasingly difficult to carry.



Reliance on Beta Blockers


This also wasn’t their first attempt to manage performance anxiety.


Years earlier, a teacher had suggested beta blockers. They had been using them ever since.


For solos. For auditions. For any situation where the stakes felt high.


Over time, it became clear this wasn’t a long-term solution.


The medication dulled their emotional range and made it harder to connect with the music.


It helped them get through performances, but at a cost.


They wanted another option. One that didn’t rely on a pill.


Rebuilding from the Inside Out


We began working together during the pandemic.


As I often do, we started with values.


Technical excellence was central, which made sense given the feedback they’d recently received. But alongside that, we worked on their relationship with the inner critic that had become relentless.


They had tried therapy before. They had also tried mindfulness. Neither had been a good fit.


So we worked differently.


Rather than formal daily practices, we focused on brief, low-pressure moments of awareness in real contexts.

Noticing thought patterns as they appeared.

Learning how to redirect attention without suppressing experience.


Even with this light-touch approach, their insight grew quickly.


As they put it:

“I realised I could just not concentrate on other people watching me and listening to me. I could just concentrate on what I have to do... even that small thing changed the whole perspective.”


Tracking Change Over Time


To help track progress, we used the Kenny Music Performance Anxiety Inventory (KMPAI), a well-researched measure commonly used in performance anxiety research.


(This was also one of the tools that I'd used extensively during my MA project on music performance anxiety coaching. )


Scores above 105 typically indicate problematic levels of music performance anxiety.


They began at 158.


After six sessions, their score had dropped to 110, just above the clinical threshold.


We also used the Experiential Shame Scale (ESS), which captures the shame many musicians carry, not just about performance, but about having anxiety at all.


Their score dropped from 5.9 to 2.2.


But the numbers mattered less than what they reflected:

A change in how they related to pressure.


In their words:

“It’s easier now I know what I have to do... even if you’re not able to do it 100% all the time, it’s a big step forward.”


The Moment It Was All For


Then came the moment that perfectly captured everything they’d been working toward.


When pandemic restrictions lifted and opera performances resumed, they returned to the stage.


Midway through one production, the scheduled soloist tested positive for Covid.


With no time to prepare, my client was asked to step in and sing the solo in a major opera house.


The anxiety hit hard…


Instinctively, they reached into their bag for a beta blocker... but it wasn’t there.


They went on anyway.


They sang the solo.


Without medication.


With anxiety present.


And it went beautifully.


Here's what happened in their own words:

“Even though anxiety was taking over, it was a big step forward and I managed to go through it and be in the moment. It was my first solo in a big house and also without a beta-blocker. It went really well. I think it was a big achievement!”

I couldn’t agree more.


Fear hadn’t disappeared.


What had changed was their ability to stay oriented and present when it mattered most.

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