How to Support Your Actor Partner (Without Losing Yourself)

here are The lessons I've learnt from loving a performer.

When I first wrote this article many years ago, I was writing as the partner of an actor trying to make sense of an unconventional relationship. Since becoming a coach, training in nervous system regulation and spending years supporting people through life's many ups and downs, I've come to realise that the challenges performers face aren't unique to the performing arts. They're human challenges. Uncertainty. Identity. Rejection. Distance. Learning how to stay connected when life keeps pulling you in different directions.

So although this article was written with performers in mind, I hope it speaks to anyone who loves someone whose work demands flexibility, resilience and long periods apart.

Nine years ago I met my performer partner whilst we were working for the same theatre company. We spent every free moment together and we fell in love.

But then my beloved went off on a six-month tour of village halls and small-scale theatres, and suddenly our relationship went from ‘normal’ to one that only performers and their partners would recognise: snatching rare nights together in digs in such romantic places as Sutton Coldfield, Chipping Sodbury and Mansfield, in between weeks of tired late-night post-performance phone calls which still went on until 2am.

And you know what? It was romantic.

But given that the course of true love never did run smooth, what practical steps can you take to support each other when one (or both) of you is trying to make a living in the most competitive and most challenging industry in the world?

Emotional Safety Begins with Trust

Othello lost it, Medea misplaced it and Baby flew into Johnny’s arms on wings of it. Trust is fundamental in any relationship whether you’re dating a performer or an accountant, although accountants are unlikely to be quite so emotionally connected to their work (or their colleagues).

Performers often lack opportunities to spend time with their tribe, so when they do work the social side of employment can be intense and all-consuming. Bonding in this way with colleagues they will be relying on both on and off stage is a good thing. Only performers truly know what performers go through, both when they’re employed and when they’re not. So that post-show drink isn’t just a reward for a job well done; it’s a chance to shake off days and days of soul-destroying ‘resting’, fruitless anticipation, and perfunctory rejection. But combine that with many weeks, even months, apart and it’s no wonder that we can become paranoid and anxious other halves. As a non-performer this was something I initially struggled with and it left me feeling a bit of an outsider.

It’s important to involve partners socially, when the opportunity arises, so that other halves feel included in the nicer aspects of the performing life. Once introduced to a performer’s colleagues the other half can put names to faces and will feel less insecure. This isn’t needy or clingy. It’s normal. Plus other halves are very proud of their performer partners and it is equally normal to want to share in that pride, whether it’s on a red carpet or in the Red Lion. 

Learning to Dance with Uncertainty

‘Flexibility’ implies compromise, but call it ‘spontaneity’, even ‘serendipity’, and immediately the narrative has changed. So when the agent rings last thing on a Friday with exciting news of an audition first thing on Monday (‘please find attached six pages of sides and be off book’) the performer’s instincts will kick in and their radar will lock on to the target. But with this news the partner’s hopes for the weekend may have already taken a direct hit.

The ‘cancelled’ weekend has happened to me a lot and I find the most useful way to look at it is to think that I’ve been gifted a whole two days of free time: a chance to do some of the things I like doing but my partner doesn’t (vintage clothes shopping) or an opportunity to do some of the things I’ve been putting off (upcycling an ottoman or alphabetising my spice cupboard - don’t ask).

‘Spontaneity’ also extends to booking holidays. My partner and I only ever book holidays a few weeks / days / hours in advance and I (now) love never quite knowing what is round the corner. I’ve also learnt that one of the (few) positives of unemployment is more time to share: take that trip out to the countryside together or go and see a film and escape into someone else’s story for a couple of hours. Life, as we know, is what happens to us while we’re making other plans, so don’t let your plans get in the way of living.

Staying Connected to Yourself

Life as the partner of a performer could be lonely. Much of my and my partner’s relationship has been apart. I have had to learn to love my own company, and I am an expert at going to the theatre on my own. But in many ways dating a performer is the best of both worlds because you get the freedom of feeling like a single person with the stability of being part of a couple. Inevitably when one falls in love even the closest of friendships can sometimes take a hit as the object of one’s desire takes centre stage, so to speak.

But not here: if anything my friendships with both my single and non-single friends have grown stronger as I have been able to spend just as much time with them as ever, and have been there for them when they needed me (and I needed them). And I have been able to avoid the clarity of my own ambitions and purpose being subsumed under the more nebulous and potentially devitalising tyranny of ‘the couple thing’. This might not be everyone’s cup of tea but personally I think a relationship which lets both ‘I’ and ‘We’ stand tall beside one another is a strong and exciting one.


FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right? In this industry even the most consistently busy and pro-active performers who have everything in place (good agent, good contacts, good reputation, reliable resting work for those all-important senses of purpose and routine) will have their black dog days. I’m talking about those days when other people’s judgments or rejection, a missed opportunity, a lack of progression / of recognition / of money (take your pick) take their toll on a performer’s creativity and mental health, and challenge even the most established and stable relationships.

The best thing a partner can do for a loved one is simply listen. It can be tempting to offer advice, search for solutions or try to make everything better, but that's rarely what someone needs when they're carrying disappointment or rejection.

One of the greatest gifts we can offer another person isn't advice. It's the feeling that they don't have to carry their struggles alone. When someone feels truly heard, something begins to soften. Their breathing slows, their shoulders relax and their nervous system starts to settle. They don't necessarily need us to solve the problem; they need to know they're safe enough to bring the whole of themselves home.

In an industry where performers can feel judged, dismissed or rejected on an almost daily basis, creating a space where they feel accepted exactly as they are can be profoundly healing. Sometimes the most supportive thing we can say isn't, "Here's what you should do," but simply, "I'm here."

COMPROMISE VERSUS SACRIFICE

Be aware of the difference between compromise and sacrifice.To create something great requires sacrifice, and I believe this is true for relationships too. But this sacrifice shouldn’t force anyone to negotiate their sense of integrity or their identity. There may be some non-negotiables and that’s okay – don’t be afraid to voice them. As I said in my previous blog post, fulfilment can change over time. Be mindful that what you found fulfilling when you first met may no longer be fulfilling ten years later, know what you want from your future together and be prepared to be flexible (or spontaneous!) too. 

‘MAY YOUR CHOICES REFLECT YOUR HOPES, NOT YOUR FEARS’

A career in the performing arts doesn’t always lead to long-term financial stability, and falling in love with a performer won’t always lead to a conventional relationship, but one thing I do know is that few things in our world are as rich, as strong and as fruitful as two people, each connected to their own life's purpose, choosing to face the future hand-in-hand.

Thanks for reading! Many of the performers I coach aren't looking for help with auditions—they're looking for support navigating uncertainty, relationships, confidence and life transitions. If you're a woman working in the performing arts and would like a space to think, reflect and move forward with greater clarity, I'd love to support you.

 

Hi, I’m Bea…

I began my coaching career supporting actors and performers through the unique challenges of the industry. Today, I help women from all walks of life reconnect with themselves, navigate life's transitions and create a life that feels more authentic. Find out about the 1:1 coaching I offer, here.


 
 

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