Here’s a story I’m sure many voice talents can relate to. But it applies to every profession or hobby just the same.
I recently had a couple of recording sessions that left me with a heavy feeling I couldn’t shake. The kind of sessions where nothing technically goes wrong, but the connection just isn’t there.
The direction felt vague, and in the end the client seemed “not fully satisfied” – just “okay” with my performance.
I felt like I was delivering exactly what they requested, but perhaps I didn’t manage to read between the lines like I usually do. (You know how they sometimes say A and mean B?)
Now, I don’t say this to boast, but I rarely miss the mark. If it’s a self-directed session, I send a couple of takes and 95% of the time they’re solid, with no revisions needed. If it’s a remote session, it’s usually smooth sailing – especially if I’ve had a reference to rehearse. Then it’s just a matter of refining together with the director.
This time, I was left wondering: Was I just not hitting it? Am I slipping? And like most major things in life, it didn’t come alone, this happened with a couple of different projects in the same week.
I’ve been more tired than usual lately, running on lower reserves than I’d like to admit. And when you care deeply about your work and your standards are high (maybe even take it a bit too seriously at times), it doesn’t take much to trigger that little spiral. If you know you know.
But today I had two back-to-back sessions that reminded me exactly why I do this work.
The first client said, “Wow, nailed it,” after just one take, and we wrapped in 20 minutes.
The second one laughed when we were done in eight minutes, joking, “What are we going to do with the rest of the time?”
The direction clicked, the emotion flowed, and I felt like myself again. It was effortless, but not accidental. It was the result of years of practice, intuition, and care.
And just like that, the fog cleared.
I’m not sharing this to show off, but to show up for anyone who’s ever walked out of a session questioning themselves.
Even when you’ve done this work for years, those moments still happen.
But a shaky session doesn’t rewrite your story. It doesn’t erase your skill.
So if you’ve had a session that shook you, here’s what I want you to remember:
-If you’re tired, stressed, or mentally overloaded, it’s easy to misread neutral feedback as negative and spiral from there. Fatigue really messes with perception, so be gentle with yourself.
-Not every session will be a perfect dance. Sometimes the chemistry is off, or the direction is unclear. That’s normal. It’s not a reflection of your talent, it’s life. Sh*t happens.
-Reflect on what you could improve, then close the file in your mind. You don’t need to relive the session in your head all day. (Easier said than done for us overthinkers, but here’s my new power mantra for situations like these: “Your confusion is not my incompetence!” Feel free to steal it for yourself if it resonates ;))
-Celebrate the good ones. Let them land. And remember your track record, not one “off day”, but the dozens (or hundreds) of successful ones. Trust that data.
