Life of a Showgirl → Life of an Author

By Kim Brassor

One Voice Evolving: Better You, Better World

Yes, I’m a Swiftie who admired Taylor Swift from the time she entered the country music scene and announced this was her “best senior year ever!” Went to concerts with my teen daughter, and now living vicariously as my preteen granddaughter discovers the eras that matter in a young woman’s life.

Taylor Swift has touched each generation with her lyrics and innuendo. Part prose, shades of poetry, passion and promise. A writer’s dream. So my muse begged to ask the question how the life of a showgirl might parallel the life of an author. My lived experience, in particular.

The performance looks effortless.

Her: The effort could kill you. Onstage it’s sequins. Backstage it’s sweat, spreadsheets, self-doubt, and a mild existential crisis.

Me: People see the finished Substack piece. They don’t see the inner monologue that went something like:

“This is brilliant.”

“This is trash.”

“This will change lives.”

“I should take up pottery.”

“Wait—did I just publish a typo?! Dear God.”

Showgirl energy all the way.

You give the audience your whole heart.

Her: and they clap for the part they relate to, not the part that cost you. A showgirl doesn’t control which moment the crowd gasps at.

Me: An author doesn’t control which sentence people highlight. You serve up your soul, and someone comments on your comma placement.

Show business, baby.

People think it’s glamorous.

Her: You know it’s grit. Showgirls sparkle under stage lights, but their real life Blisters, late nights, discipline, and stamina.

Me: Authors sparkle when the words land, but the real life is:

• the blank page

• the drafts that died valiantly

• the coffee-fueled self-reckonings

• the days you write instead of hiding in your “carefully curated comfort zone”

Glamour from the outside. Grit on the inside.

You’re expected to “perform” even on days you’re unraveling.

Her: A showgirl gets on stage whether she cried in the dressing room or not.

Me: An author hits publish whether she slept three hours, burned breakfast, or is currently questioning her entire purpose on earth.

Showing up is the job. Authenticity is the upgrade and I have shifted from performance to presence. It’s me - Kim Brassor, finally answering the echoed questions from my childhood of those who didn’t understand me: “Who does she think she is??”

I am the examined life doing its thing.

5. Reinvention is survival.

Her: Showgirls evolve. Costumes change, routines shift. They outgrow old versions of themselves.

Me: Authors do the same. New truths, new tone, new edges, new courage. My writing now is not like the showgirl who lives for applause. It’s the woman backstage saying:

“I’m doing this because it’s true.

Clap if you want. I’m not here for permission.”

That’s authorhood in its final form.

At the end of the day, both roles demand one thing:

Her: A spine strong enough to stand in the spotlight and stand in the silence.

Me: To write publicly is to live publicly. To tell the truth is to risk misunderstanding. To have a voice is to surrender control of how people receive it.

Showgirls know this. Authors really know this. And both keep going anyway.

I am One Voice Evolving.

We are One Collective Voice Evolving.

Hear us roar.

—Kim

What happens when the woman who no longer performs goes home for the holidays?

What happens when the showgirl-turned-author walks back into a family system built on scripts she didn’t write and no longer recites?

In this episode, I’m pulling back the curtain on exactly that. Listen to it on YouTube HERE.

Want the replay to the entire Home for the Holidays event? Access it HERE.