Improv is so peculiar. It cures you of your wobbly insecurities if you stick with it, but on the way there you are faced with realizing how messed up the deep recesses of your psyche are.
I noticed years ago at an improv audition, that there was a “you are wrong” voice from way back when, still running in my head. It was making me doubt all my instincts. I have managed to quell it during classes and rehearsals now, but there it was again at our last Dancy Street improv show. Sometimes I will get out on stage, and instead of listening and responding and committing to my ideas and myself and getting involved in the scene, I just start running the “no, you don’t belong here, you’re wrong, all your instincts are wrong, and no one wants to play with you” voice. A bit of a problem when you are having to come up with characters, emotions, dialog, and songs in front of a live audience. Fortunately these moments of self doubt that seem endless are really just a few seconds here and there, and words and songs do come out of my mouth. But oh, how long those wobbly seconds are, when you just don’t belong anywhere.
The good news is that the improv community is filled with THE NICEST PEOPLE I have ever met, or even ever conceived of. No, they are far nicer than any community I could have ever conceived of. And they will support any player through any phase of their development, and sincerely want you to succeed. It’s like the opposite of Junior High – at least my Junior High. It is even turning me into a genuinely nice person. And they said it couldn’t be done.