"They Love Me—But Not My Theatre Life. What Do I Do?"

by Chris Peterson, OnStage Blog Founder

The other day, I was talking to someone about how hard it can be to balance a passion for theatre with a relationship that doesn’t quite support it. She looked exhausted—not from rehearsals, but from the emotional gymnastics of trying to keep her boyfriend from spiraling every time she got cast in a new show.

“He says it’s just too many shows,” she told me. “That I’m gone too much, that I care more about theatre than I do about him.”

And there it was—that sentence. The one that shows up in so many conversations like this. You love theatre. But the person you love… kind of resents it. Or fears it. Or just flat-out doesn’t understand it. And now you're left navigating the very real tension between something that fills you up and someone who wants more of you than your theatre schedule allows.

So what do you do?

Let’s start with this: you’re not wrong for loving theatre.

You’re not selfish. You’re not “too much.” And you don’t have to apologize for finding joy in something that takes time and commitment. Yes, theatre often demands nights, weekends, emotional bandwidth, and community beyond your home life—but so do a lot of passions worth pursuing.

What you do owe your partner is honesty. You owe them clarity around your time and priorities. But you do not owe them an apology for being lit up by something they don’t fully get. You’re allowed to want more for yourself than just couplehood. You’re allowed to have a creative life. You’re allowed to be fully formed—and that includes your theatre heart.

The problem isn’t the shows. The problem is when the person you're with sees those shows as competition, not celebration.

Get to the heart of the jealousy.

If your partner starts picking fights about how often you’re rehearsing, how late you’re home, or who your scene partner is, it might not really be about any of those things. It might be about them feeling like they’re on the outside looking in—watching you light up in a world they don’t feel part of.

Jealousy often grows in isolation. Invite them in. Not necessarily into the rehearsal room, but into the why. Tell them how a scene challenged you. Let them know what you're proud of. And if they're open to it, introduce them to your cast. Show them you're not hiding anything—they're just not the center of everything, and that's okay.

Letting them see the full picture might make the shadows seem less scary. And let’s be honest, most cast members are too tired from tech week to be anybody’s threat. Demystify it. Normalize it. Let the theatre world seem less like a secret and more like a shared interest—even if they’re just appreciating it from the audience.

Set realistic expectations—and boundaries.

You can't be two places at once. And doing a show means you’ll miss some dinners, some lazy evenings, maybe even some major life events. That’s real. But if you’re doing show after show after show and expecting your partner to just silently ride it out? That’s not realistic either.

Sit down and look at the calendar together. Make space to say, “Yes, I want to do this. But I also want to be present with you. How can we make that happen?” Sometimes just knowing there’s a pause between projects helps your partner breathe a little easier.

And on the flip side: if they’re making you feel guilty every time you even think about auditioning? That’s not compromise—that’s control. Love doesn’t demand that you shelve yourself. It invites you to be whole and share that with someone who knows how to cheer you on—not cage you in. A healthy relationship should make space for your joy, not shrink it.

Prioritize intentional connection.

Theatre takes time, but it doesn’t have to take everything. Make the most of the time you do have. Whether it’s brunch on a Sunday before a matinee or a short check-in call after rehearsal, small, intentional moments of connection go a long way.

Make them feel seen. But make sure you’re feeling seen, too.

The worst thing you can do is try to “make it up to them” with guilt. Love isn’t about owing someone your time—it's about choosing each other even when things are busy and imperfect. So schedule something just for the two of you. It doesn’t have to be a grand gesture. But let them know you’re still reaching for them, even while chasing this other piece of your heart.

And finally—don’t shrink your joy.

If someone is constantly telling you that you're doing too much of what you love, that your passion is a problem, or that you're more present on stage than you are at home—it’s worth asking: are they trying to love you, or a quieter, dimmer version of you?

That woman I talked to? She wasn’t just struggling to balance shows and a relationship. She was slowly disappearing inside a version of her life that didn’t include what made her happiest.

You don’t have to choose between love and theatre. But you do have to choose partners who are secure enough to share you with the spotlight.

Theatre isn’t a threat. Theatre is a gift. And anyone who truly loves you should want you to be surrounded by things that make you feel alive—even if they don’t totally understand it.

You shouldn’t have to make yourself smaller to keep someone else from feeling insecure. Someone who truly loves you will want to watch you glow—even if it means you’re sometimes glowing from the stage. And if they’re lucky? They’ll get the best seat in the house.