The “pit of the tummy” feeling (again)

Tomorrow I’m meeting a mum pal and she just happens to be a most brilliant performer and genuinely lovely human to boot.

You know when life casually drops someone into your path like, “Here. This one might be a good friend.” That’s what this feels like.

We met through the usual mum-life route. And somewhere between oooh you're the mum of that one, mine talks about yours at home, it came out that she performs.

And then it came out that I’m turning my book into a stage play.

And then it came out that I’ve been googling and trying to wrangle this thing into something that makes sense to amazingly talented and creative performers, like her.

And then… I did the scary bit, I messaged and asked for help. And then.... I did the even scarier bit and I shared it.

I sent the draft of Act 1 over, trying to look casual about it. Like it wasn’t my humour, my heart, and my slightly feral dating history, but with stage directions.

And immediately… that feeling arrived.

That stomach-drop, pit-of-my-tummy feeling.

The same one I got when I first shared my book.

It’s a weird feeling, isn’t it? Half adrenaline, half nausea, sprinkled with “why did I do this?” and finished with “but I had to.”

Because when you make something creative, you live with it quietly for ages. It becomes normal in your own head. It’s safe in there. You can tweak it, polish it, tell yourself it’s “not ready yet” for as long as you like.

But the minute someone else reads it?

Suddenly it’s real.

Suddenly it has the potential to be loved… or misunderstood… or ignored… or (worst case) politely “interesting.”

And tomorrow, we’re having a proper conversation about it.

A performer. A mum. A real human with a real eye for what works on a stage.

I am excited (understatement)… and also mildly convinced I’m going to do that thing where I talk too fast and try to make a joke out of my own nerves. (If you see me gesturing wildly while holding a coffee like it’s a microphone, no you didn’t.)

But here’s what I keep reminding myself:

That pit-of-the-tummy feeling isn’t always fear.

Sometimes it’s your brain going, “This matters.”

Sometimes it’s the sign you’re stepping into something bigger than you planned.

And if this turns into something. If Act 1 becomes Act 2 and Act 3 and suddenly I’m holding a whole script... then it started here.

With a mum pal.

A performer.

A beautiful coffee in a beautiful coffee shop.

And me pressing send and immediately feeling like I’d launched my insides into the atmosphere.

Wish me luck.

And if you’re reading this thinking, “I’ve got a thing I want to share but I’m terrified”… honestly?

Same.

But do it anyway.

Because apparently that’s how the good stuff starts.

And, if you haven't yet ordered a copy of Swipe Right, Keep Left, you can do that by clicking on this beautiful pink link.