Bethany Busker

Back in June I was at Descanso Gardens, a very gorgeous and special LA botanical garden, with a few mom friends and their kids, when I got a phone call from my manager. I was in the midst of feeding Luna and talking to said mom friends about night sweats, chaotic nap schedules, and which brand of pouches their kids liked best — the kind of conversations that make you forget you were ever a person before you were someone’s mom — so I decided I’d call back on the drive home. Before I even got on the road, I got a text saying I had been asked to play … a busker … on an episode of ABC’s High Potential. My immediate reaction was “lol,” and my second reaction was, “how the hell will I film a TV show episode? I have a 6-month-old.”

On the car ride home I called back to get more info, which forced me to interrupt Luna’s 15th listen of the world’s most annoying kid’s song, which also possesses very specific superpowers, “The Happy Song” by Imogen Heep (iykyk). “They want you to do an acoustic cover of Blondie’s “Heart of Glass”, you know, like ‘singer-songwriter style,’” said my manager. The new mom going back to work anxiety was instantly drowned out by the fear of playing guitar anxiety that plagues me even though I have been a professional musician for over half of my adult life. Immediately following the imposter syndrome-induced anxiety was the … being on camera 6 months postpartum anxiety. Basically, this really cool opportunity stirred up multiple different tiers of anxiety before a smidge of excitement could even trickle in.

I am historically one of those people who can find the bad in anything, especially when it comes to myself. Blame it on being a Scorpio, blame it on being scrutinized by music media and random internet strangers at 22 years old, or just blame it on being a woman on planet Earth — I simply loooooove being hard on myself!!! Well, I really don’t love it per se; it is just something I am very used to doing, and it turns out it is a very hard habit to break. This self-doubt adores attempting to stop me from doing all sorts of cool things in life, but thankfully after a good 24 hours of spiraling, I told my inner bully to fuck right off and said yes to the (busker) dress.

I immediately started trying to figure out a version of “Heart of Glass” in the style of … a busker, which meant I had to tap into my inner 19-year-old, fedora-wearing singer-songwriter self (see below). I am embarrassed to admit this, but that was the first time I had picked up a guitar since Luna was born. It hit me that she had never even seen me hold a guitar before. To her, I was just mom, milk source, and lady obsessed with making her nap. Suddenly, she was transfixed, and for the first time, I got to introduce her to the other version of me, the one who plays music, and in that moment, I remembered that version of myself existed too.

Once I figured out a version that a Venice Beach busker might croon away, I recorded a video of myself playing the song and sent it to the director and music supervision team. I think I recorded it at least 90 times? No exaggeration. My perfectionism loves to swoop in and outshine my imposter syndrome, and really, they are one and the same! Every time I would make even a slight mistake, I would scream “SHIT” and then start over. A few hours after I sent the video in, the team replied and said the version was … perfect and they had … no notes. I’m not telling you this to toot my own horn, ok? I am telling you this because this thing I had seemingly tried to convince myself I couldn’t do and forced myself to do so many times I developed literal blisters on my fingers (said in Ringo voice) — was technically perfect? I felt a rush of relief, followed by a rush of fear because this meant they actually liked the cover and that I would be moving on to the next round aka: the television.

You may be wondering why I am telling you about all of this anxiety instead of simply doing a recap of this really cool and exciting thing I got to do. Well, for one, this newsletter is called Oversharing, so yeah, that is what I do here. And two, this entire experience was pretty much how I… got my groove back as a new mom. Not only did it make me feel like a normal autonomous human being again, but it also forced me to confront my fear of playing guitar and performing alone (lol, again, professional musician for many, many years), and it put me smack dab in front of the mirror (literally), where I really had to accept my body for where it was at 6 months postpartum. It was a real killing-several-birds-with-one-stone exposure therapy moment.

So let’s start with the autonomous human being part. Up until this point, I had not left Luna alone for more than maybe 2 hours at a time. Something I have not overshared with you guys yet, but I plan to eventually, is that I had really bad postpartum anxiety and OCD. I had to end up going on medication for it, and I am happy to report I am doing so, so, so much better — but yeah, for a while, it was very bad. This anxiety manifested itself in a lot of ways, but one of the major ones was feeling terrified to leave Luna. My rational mind knew she would be ok, but my anxious mind would tell me all sorts of horrible things would happen if I left her for too long. At the same time, I was desperate for a sense of autonomy again, a sense of feeling like anything other than a “mom.” My own mom, an absolute angel, came to visit for a month to help out while I got my shit sorted out, so thank god she was here to look after Luna while I worked several days for this project. The duality of motherhood is insane because you are desperate for time away, but a lot of times, taking that time away feels wrong, but I knew that I needed to do this for myself.

Next up, there was the whole “playing guitar” part of this role. When they first asked me to do this, I told one of my managers that I’d do it, but that they’d need to find someone else to record the guitar, and I could just mime it for the show. My managers are very used to me acting like I have no idea what I’m doing, so no one really batted an eye; it was more of an “oh, ok, we can check to see if that’ll work” response, knowing I’d likely come around to the idea that I could actually do it. I did indeed come around to it, and when I messaged them saying, “nevermind, I can do it!” they were like, “lol, we know.” I would simply love to get to a place in life where I have the confidence of a mediocre straight white man playing acoustic guitar, but alas, I am just a girl who needs a good spiral before I settle. Once the powers that be approved my version, I practiced the song so many times to ensure I’d get it right. The day I went to record the version that would be used on the show, I had to take a beta blocker because I was so nervous (one of the best inventions of modern man). In classic Bethany fashion, there was no need to stress, and I got the song done with minimal expletives uttered into the mic.

And then, there was the costume fitting. I dreaded this part more than anything else because it meant confronting my body in a way I hadn’t since giving birth. I don’t subscribe to “bounce back” culture, but it’s almost impossible to see yourself in a body that feels so different from the one you knew and not feel insecure or wish it looked different. Add in the whole “camera adds 10 pounds” thing gnawing at my brain, and yeah, I was spiraling. When I got to the Fox lot, I was met by two lovely costume designers, Sandra Burns and Angie Parrish, who immediately put me at ease. I cried a little when I saw the sizes they had pulled, but after my brief pity body party, I realized: these were my sizes. This was my body. I brought life into this godforsaken world — of course my body was different. Sandra and Angie made sure what I wore was both flattering and comfortable, and because of that, I actually felt good in my skin on shoot day. I don’t think I would have taken even a baby step toward peace with my postpartum body if I hadn’t done this show. Standing in that GIGANTIC costume department mirror, I wasn’t just “a mom in a new body,” I was a whole person again.

The day of the taping arrived, and I felt almost no anxiety at all. I think I had used it all up the week prior. Hanging out on set all day was a nice respite from my usual days of poopy diapers and saying “shhhh” until my throat was basically bleeding. Driving home after the taping, I felt such a renewed sense of me. If you are a mom, I am sure you can relate to the feeling of “losing yourself” after having a baby and wondering if and when you will ever find a sliver of who you were/are/or want to be. I didn’t realize how deeply I was stuck in that space until I finally felt what it was like to be someone again. And I don’t mean “be someone” in the #showbiz sense; I just mean it in the sense of, like, existing in the world, wearing clothing that does not have an elastic waist. A handful of hours dedicated to me, doing something I love that tethers me to who I was before I became a mom. I really didn’t know how or when I’d feel that way again. And who knew the answer would be playing a busker on an ABC television show! I really would never have guessed that that would be the way out. Life is full of surprises!!!

Below is the full cover of Heart of Glass by Bethany Busker. You can watch High Potential Tuesday nights on ABC, or stream it on Hulu. Your girl opens episode 3 of season 2 with a brief but very impactful (for me!) cameo—one that let me forget about wake windows long enough to remember myself.