My Sensory Survival Kit: How I Handle Loud Rooms and Bright Lights

I love performing. I love connecting with people who feel my music. But I won't lie to you — walking into a packed venue with strobe lights, heavy perfume, and wall-to-wall noise can send my nervous system into overdrive before I even touch the mic.

For years, I thought I had to just push through it or prove I was tough enough to handle it. That mindset left me having panic attacks in green rooms and avoiding opportunities I actually wanted. Now I prep different. I carry a toolkit, and I give myself permission to use it.

First thing in my bag: loop earplugs. Not the foam ones — the musician-grade kind that lower volume without muffling sound. I wear them during soundcheck and sometimes even during my set if the monitors are too harsh. Nobody notices, and it keeps me from getting overstimulated before I even start.

I also keep a small roller of peppermint oil. When a venue smells like fifteen different colognes mixed with old carpet, I dab a little under my nose. It gives me one steady scent to focus on instead of all the competing smells that make my chest tight.

Before I go on, I do a grounding check-in with my body. I press my feet flat into the floor. I name five things I can see, four I can touch, three I can hear. It sounds simple, but it pulls me out of my head and back into the room — on my terms.

I also tell my team my exit protocol ahead of time. If I need to step outside between sets or take a breather in a quieter hallway, that's not me flaking — that's me managing my system so I can come back and deliver. My manager knows the signal, and we keep it low-key.

The hardest part for me used to be the photo lines and meet-and-greets. Bright ring lights, people standing close, everyone talking at once. Now I ask venues to keep the lighting softer if possible, and I limit the line to ten-minute intervals with a break in between. It's not about being difficult. It's about not having a meltdown in front of people who came to support me.

I'm still learning what works and what doesn't. Some nights I use every tool in the kit. Some nights I only need one or two. But having the plan in place — and knowing I'm allowed to use it — has made the difference between canceling shows and actually showing up as myself.

If you deal with sensory overload in your work or your art, you're not broken. You're not too sensitive. You're just wired to notice more, and that means you need a strategy that fits how your body actually works. Build your kit. Test it. Adjust it. And don't apologize for needing it.

If you are in crisis, call or text 988 (US) or visit findahelpline.com.