Fringe performer Jean Franzblau offers free wellbeing events for fellow artists


Two weeks in, the Fringe can start to take its toll on performers. A hug can help, writes performer and intimacy professional Jean Franzblau.
It’s Sunday morning. I’m sitting on the carpet right now with a blanket around my shoulders. I need to cry. (Ah, and now I am.)
My solo show’s opening night had 60 people. I was elated! Last night there were seven. I promised myself that I would be resilient and strong, roll with the punches and not get ruffled. Yet the idea of flyering today seems loathsome. I walked 12 miles yesterday. I feel tired and trapped into an impossible schedule.
Months ago, I ran a fundraising campaign asking family and friends to support this trip to Edinburgh. I let them know that my solo show, My Mother Doesn’t Know I’m Kinky, has meaningful themes including sexual empowerment, intergenerational healing and strengthening of the human spirit. I told them how committed I was to bring this work to the world stage. They believed in me and made more than 100 contributions - thousands of US dollars. I’ve got to fill the seats each night. I can’t let them down.
This is the pressure cooker that the Fringe can feel like for me and so many of my fellow artists. How could the Fringe bring me to my knees in just a few days? I heard how hard it could be and prepared meticulously. I brought my yoga mat so I could relieve stress with my favorite videos. I packed my journal to process my feelings, prepared recorded meditations, and even, I’ll admit, brought with me my stuffed monkey.
These tools are helpful in moments. But what I really need today is a hug. Of all people, I should know. When I’m not performing my show, I have a unique job. You could call me a Cuddle Consultant. That’s because I’m the founder of Cuddle Sanctuary. At Cuddle Sanctuary, I host platonic cuddle events for adults, offer cuddle therapy services and train other good-hearted people who want to do this work.
People often ask me how I got into it. One time I was traveling solo and feeling super lonely. I latched onto this guy thinking that what I needed was a sexual experience. I followed this man around for hours and, yes, finally hooked up. But the part that I really wanted – sweet conversation, cuddling – didn’t happen at all. I felt hurt.
When I thought about it later, I realized that I wasn’t being honest with him about what I really needed. I learned that, sure, I have sexual needs. But I also have needs for connection, affection and just plain hugs – nonsexual stuff. And those needs weren’t getting met. I learned that touch is like a nutrient - let’s call it Vitamin T. And on that trip, I was depleted.
Cuddle Sanctuary events started out as something I needed just for myself, but it has evolved into a phenomenon in many communities as I continue to train people in the United States and abroad. Having spent the last ten years as a leader in the growing cuddle community, I know how important safe, human touch is for well-being. As mammals, we were built for it. Infants need cuddling for their growth. And adults experience so many benefits from soothing touch. Consensual hugs release the natural “cuddle chemical” called oxytocin which helps us feel settled and connected. This hormone lowers cortisol - the stress hormone. It also boosts the immune system, improves sleep and supports the health of the heart. (Isn’t that a terrific metaphor?)
So, how can I use my knowledge about the benefits of touch to survive the Fringe? I can ask for a bit of human help. I can ask for a hug.
It’s Monday. My friend Madline came into town to see me and the show. Like me, she’s a professional cuddler. When we hugged, my tears came freely. I felt so much better after a few minutes of being held.
Later, I asked my trusted friend, Tommy, if he’d be willing to give me a shoulder massage. He said yes! Besides relief for my tight muscles (which were strained from lugging my heavy backpack), the touch helped me feel cared for and refreshed. Better.
I also planned ahead for the Fringe in a different way. I had a feeling that I wasn’t the only one who would need some support. So I reached out to Edinburgh’s Health In Mind. That’s the charity Fringe Artist Services hired to offer mental health services to artists. I offered to collaborate with them to host free events for performers. They agreed.
The events continue this week. They’re called The Well-Being Experience: Mind and Body Replenishment for EdFringe Artists. I designed these experiences to soothe artists’ nerves and create feelings of harmony, connection and calm.
Hugs and my events will be important items in my toolkit for well-being. Focusing on self-care allows me to perform My Mother Doesn’t Know I’m Kinky with fun, depth and pleasure. And that’s what I came to Edinburgh to bring. Last night’s performance was a blast. The audience and I both left the theatre glowing.
My Mother Doesn’t Know I’m Kinky, theSpace on Niddry Street, 10.15pm, until 24 August. The next Well-being Experience: Mind and Body Replenishment for EdFringe Artists is on 20 August. Hugs will be welcome and optional. Artists can book by emailing [email protected].
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