The breath in my lungs feels constricted in my tightening chest. My fingers are tingling as they tap the ridged strings beneath them. The stage is in front of me. It is a temporary stage, made of tables pushed together and secured with tape. In all likelihood, it is the ricketiest stage I will have ever been on.

I don’t get it. I have been behind the scenes for shows a million times before. I’ve performed countless times.

Why do I feel nervous now?

Performances used to ...