Why Embarrassment Feels So Awful—And How Improv Helps

I once did an improv show at the Edinburgh Festival with Jim Bowen from Bullseye as a guest. I was so awful that I couldn’t leave the dressing room for over an hour afterwards for fear of seeing anyone that may have been in the audience. And it haunted me for a week.

The feeling of ‘cringe’ and embarrassment has got to be one of the worst feelings there are. Something about the way the feeling clings to you and the moment itself keeps replaying in your head. But how to get over embarrassment?

The good news is, you’re not alone—and there are good scientific reasons for why those moments feel just so painful. Embarrassment is a social-emotional reaction that the body treats as a mild threat. So unsurprisingly, our bodies go into a softer version of the fight-flight-freeze response.

Let’s break it down. Here’s what’s happening to your brain when you’re embarrassed:

Your Amygdala (threat detector) kicks in. This triggers a low-grade stress response, like a mini version of fear or danger.
Your Sympathetic nervous system activates. This is your “fight or flight” mode, even if you’re not actually in danger. It’s why your heart races or you feel like hiding.
Your Medial prefrontal cortex (self-awareness zone) lights up. This part of the brain becomes hyper-aware of how you might be perceived by others.

Here’s a more detailed article on the neuroscience of embarassment There’s karaoke involved in some of the experiments so cringe guaranteed.

Then come the physical symptoms. Sound familiar?

Blushing is caused by blood vessels opening in your face and neck. This comes from adrenaline affecting blood flow.
Increased heart rate—your body is gearing up to respond to a threat—social or not.
Sweating can be another stress response, prepping your body to “do something,” even if it’s just running out of the room.
Body tension: You might clench your jaw, hunch your shoulders, or hold your breath.
For me personally, it’s always butterflies or nausea. Blood is moving away from the digestive system (because your body thinks it might need to fight or flee), which causes that weird “gut drop” sensation.

How ironic that some of these physical symptoms of embarrassment can cause more embarrassment—thanks body!

From an evolutionary perspective, embarrassment is a pro-social emotion. In theory, it exists to signal remorse or awareness of a mistake. Feeling cringe or embarrassment helps us learn what not to repeat in social situations—kind of like internal social training wheels. But unfortunately, this response can be way out of proportion.

How Improv Helps

Believe it or not, these days I am almost embarrassment-free (not 100%—I’m still human). I wasn’t always this way—I used to be much more self-conscious and had many ‘please let the ground swallow me’ moments.

Some of that shift might be getting older and caring less about what people think. But honestly? I really believe this is because of my practice in improvisation.

Improv is like anti-cringe training ground. Here’s how:

You Practice Letting Go Fast
In improv, you make bold, weird, messy choices constantly—and you don’t get to stop the scene and say, “Wait, that was dumb.” You move forward, not backward.
You Learn to Embrace the Awkward
Improv celebrates “mistakes” because they often lead to the funniest, most memorable scenes.
You Build Comfort in Uncertainty
Improv teaches you to feel okay in the unknown—where the fear of looking foolish can’t paralyze you.
You Get Used to Being Seen
A lot of cringe comes from being overly self-aware. On stage, you learn that being seen—fully and vulnerably—isn’t just okay; it’s valuable.
You Bond with Others Over Shared Weirdness
Improv connects you with other people who are also being ridiculous. Suddenly, your “cringe” becomes a group laugh, not a solo shame spiral.

Cringe Survival Toolkit: Before, During, and After

I tend to think of cringe as an afterwards sensation. But I do think it helps to go into potential high-stress situations as prepared as you can.
Here are some tools that can help, depending on the moment you’re in.

Before Cringe Care

Going into something like an improv class or performance? Prepare yourself with context and compassion.
Here’s a post on dealing with nerves before an improv class.
And here’s one on how to prepare for your first class.

During Cringe Care

When you’re in it, nerves can distort perspective. These practical techniques help regulate the nervous system:

Name It
Silently (or aloud) say: “I’m feeling embarrassed. That’s okay.” Labeling the emotion reduces activity in the amygdala.
Box Breathing (4–4–4–4)
Inhale for 4 sec, hold for 4 sec, exhale for 4 sec, hold for 4 sec. Repeat 3–5 cycles. Your breath sends a direct signal to your nervous system that you’re safe.
Shake It Out (Literally)
Shake your arms, legs, and shoulders for 30 seconds—like an animal discharging stress after a near-miss. This helps your body release trapped tension, especially if you’re frozen.
Butterfly Tap / Self-Soothing
Cross your arms over your chest and tap gently left–right–left–right. Or rub your hands together slowly. This grounds you in your body and re-centers your attention.
The “Zoom-Out” Technique
Ask: “What would Future Me think of this moment?” or “Would I judge someone else this harshly?” Reframing helps build compassion and perspective.

After Cringe Care

Normalize It
Everyone cringes at themselves. If you don’t, you’re probably not growing. Cringe is often a sign of progress.
Reframe It
Instead of “I was so awkward,” try “I didn’t know better then, and that’s okay.”
Or even better: “That was me trying something out. Respect.”
Laugh at Yourself
Humor is a powerful tool. If you can joke about it, it loses its power over you.
Zoom Out
No one is thinking about your cringe moment as much as you are. People are too wrapped up in their own worlds to care deeply.

I hope this little guide on how to get over embarrassment and surviving cringe has helped.

I’ve realised while writing this that I’m not immune to cringe—I still have many shows where I think about what I could have said or done differently. I suppose the difference these days is the acceptance.

The brilliant and sad thing about improv shows is that once they are gone, they are gone. So yes, I still get embarrassed—but with practice, I’ve learned to sit with it and let go of it much quicker.

Because improv is a sandbox where you can safely explore and desensitize yourself to that cringe feeling by playing, failing, and laughing your way through it.