Why playing a character can help you express more
There is a great joy in creating a character — precisely because you don't know what it's going to do or how it's going to behave. What it gives you, above all, is permission: to do things you wouldn't do as your everyday self. That's one of the core reasons we created the 30-day character challenge, where you post a one-to-two minute video as your character every day. A little can go a long way.
Last year, both Joanne (my collaborator) and I wanted to find ways to stand more firmly in our expertise —
to move beyond philosophical conversation and personal reflection on our YouTube channels and let people see the depth of knowledge and experience we were actually bringing. The catch: neither of us wanted to become yet another person doling out confident expert advice. We were stuck in a contradiction.
A character turned out to be the way through. Joanne created a professor who allowed her to make long, important pauses and speak slowly — with authority. I created Dr. Anya with a Y, who dispensed advice on all manner of things ("don't be a doormat") while taking the mickey at the same time. I loved the satire, but I also wanted her to have a real message. Dr. Anya let me be poignant and funny in the same breath. She knew she mattered — she's a doctor, after all. For both of us, the character sparked something: I committed to keeping Dr. Anya alive and organised a one-off open stage event. Joanne rekindled a long-dormant research thread and launched a new YouTube channel, Quiet in Class.
This year, we wanted to share that same experience of transformation — the kind that only happens when you walk into the unknown and trust the process. We also wanted to go somewhere more instinctual and spontaneous, so we chose to base this year's characters on animals. I pulled cards at random from my animal card set: mine was a butterfly, Joanne's a crane. And so Madame Fluttery was born. My idea was to concentrate on the flutter — that particular mixture of enthusiasm and sudden anxiety. We ran through the challenge ourselves before opening it to the group, so we could feel what it was actually like, find the pitfalls, and see what surprises came up.
Madame Fluttery turned out to be quite different from Dr. Anya, which of course was part of the fun.
She felt tender, even innocent. She loved to chatter without saying anything important — and I found that strangely liberating. By the end of the 30 days, I can say she brought me real lightness, and a new kindness toward myself. I hadn't expected that. That's the magic of it. She gave me exactly what I needed: permission to share what's happening inside me, even when it has nothing to do with the conversation at hand. To take up space in my own quirky way, instead of only holding space for others. Perhaps that's the biggest takeaway of all.
You will be surprised what sides of yourself might emerge — parts you buried long ago because they didn't feel accepted. Bringing them back is a quiet freedom, and a step toward becoming more fully yourself again.
I sincerely hope you'll join us on the journey. The challenge is fun, and yes, it asks something of you — but that's exactly the point.
Ready to find your character? Find out everything about the 30-day character challenge and sign up at: