What It's Really Like to Be a Traveling Entertainer | Monique Marian

The Glamorous Life of a Traveling Entertainer (And Other Lies We Tell Ourselves)

Recently someone asked me:

"Monique, what's the hardest part about being a traveling entertainer?"

I don't think they expected my answer.

Most people assume it's the travel, the long hours, or performing in front of large audiences.

And while those things can certainly be challenging, the hardest part isn't usually what happens on stage.

It's everything else.

People often imagine my life as a professional singer and think it's incredibly glamorous.

And sometimes it is.

I get to perform for amazing audiences, work with talented musicians, travel to beautiful places, and do something I genuinely love for a living.

But what people don't always see is everything that happens behind the scenes to make those performances possible.

Being a traveling entertainer means constantly adjusting. New cities. New venues. New hotel rooms. New schedules. New foods. New stages. Sometimes all within the same week.

One of the biggest challenges isn't actually singing.

It's maintaining a lifestyle that allows me to sing at my best.

Over the years, I've learned that my voice and my body are connected in ways I never fully appreciated when I was younger. What I eat matters. How much sleep I get matters. How much water I drink matters. Even what time I eat dinner can affect how I feel the next day.

The problem?

Travel doesn't always cooperate.

One day you're determined to eat healthy, get eight hours of sleep, and stick to your routine. The next day you're arriving somewhere late at night, searching for food in an unfamiliar neighborhood, wondering if the only thing open is a convenience store.

As I've gotten older, I've become much more intentional about finding foods that work for my body rather than simply eating whatever is available. I'm constantly experimenting, learning, and paying attention to how different foods affect my energy levels, my voice, and my overall health.

And don't get me started on sleep.

There is something uniquely frustrating about lying in bed at 2:00 a.m. knowing you should be asleep while your body has somehow decided it would rather reorganize your entire life, solve world politics, and remember every embarrassing thing you've ever done since high school.

Another thing people rarely talk about is the loneliness.

Not because there aren't people around.

There are always people around.

The challenge is that every new job comes with an entirely new cast of characters. New musicians. New managers. New production staff. New personalities.

Every time I arrive somewhere, I have to figure out who everyone is, how they communicate, what kind of mood they're in, and how I fit into the team.

Some people are warm and welcoming from day one. Others take time.

Some are stressed. Some are funny. Some are wonderfully eccentric. And every now and then you meet someone who seems personally offended by your existence before you've even said hello.

It's part of the adventure.

You spend your life meeting people while also saying goodbye to people. Building connections and then moving on to the next destination.

The reality is that performing isn't just what happens on stage.

It's the choices you make when nobody is watching.

It's the water instead of the extra cocktail. The healthy meal instead of convenience food. The decision to rest when your body is asking for it. The discipline to keep going when airports, schedules, and life itself seem determined to throw you off track.

Of course, I'm still a work in progress.

There are days when my schedule is perfect and I feel like the healthiest woman alive.

And then there are days when dinner happens at 11:00 p.m., I've slept far too little, and I'm wondering how exactly I became an adult without receiving an instruction manual.

But I suppose that's part of the adventure.

The audience sees the finished performance.

The entertainer remembers the delayed flights, the strange hotel rooms, the search for healthy food, the new personalities, the lack of sleep, and the constant effort to show up as the best version of yourself anyway.

The older I get, the more I realize that every lifestyle comes with a price.

For me, the rewards have been incredible experiences, unforgettable people, and a front-row seat to parts of the world I might never have seen otherwise.

The challenges are real too—loneliness, constant change, disrupted routines, and the never-ending quest for a good night's sleep.

But for now, I'm learning to appreciate both.

After all, every chapter of life has something to teach us.

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