"Sometimes I wake up in the morning and do not have that confidence"
West End star and content creator Hannah Lowther has been working out what it means to be genuine in a social media era that celebrates perfection.
“I’ll post a video and people will comment, ‘I wish I had that confidence’,” says 27-year-old actor and content creator Hannah Lowther. “Sometimes I wake up in the morning and do not have that confidence. I’m simply acting. I’m faking it till I make it. And sometimes I think maybe that’s just what everyone’s doing?”
It’s an admission that makes you like Hannah instantly. Online, she looks like the most unflappable woman on the internet, smiling through West End shows, recording cheerful vlogs between curtain calls, and filming viral musical skits that helped catapult her from Tesco’s shop floor to the West End stage. But behind the screen, Hannah’s been working out what it means to be genuine in a social media era that celebrates perfection.
“I try to be careful about what I’m resharing and reposting,” Hannah says. “Because I’m aware of how lucky and privileged I am to be in the position that I am. So yeah, it’s finding a line between toxic positivity and just being genuine.”
Hannah explains that each platform shows a different side of her, saying, “I use the platforms for all different things. YouTube is my least edited version, still edited but the least.” It’s a healthy honesty, not just about bad days but about how selective authenticity can be. “Sometimes people say, ‘You’re so positive all the time,’ and I’m like… if you followed me on YouTube, you’d realise I’m actually not,” she admits.
Her job, on and off stage, is to make confidence look easy. But as Hannah points out, it’s a performance in itself. “On stage and on social media, you’re putting on a version of yourself. How I am online is me, but it’s an extended version of me.”
She laughs remembering one video filmed in New York. “There’s this TikTok of me singing in Times Square… People only see the [final] video. They haven’t seen me beforehand shaking like a leaf, preparing myself to sing really loudly and then running off afterwards because I was so embarrassed,” she says.
Related articles
Even at her most outgoing, Hannah insists she’s not always the extrovert people think. “I’ve always wondered if I’m an introverted extrovert,” she says. “Some days I’m like, maybe I’m not an extrovert at all. Maybe I just need to sit in a dark room and recharge. I mean, no one can be on all the time. Well… maybe JoJo Siwa.”
When Covid lockdown hit, theatres went dark and Hannah assumed her career had too. “I genuinely thought that was it,” she says. “All these people that were already in West End shows had lost their jobs and were in the same position as me so I thought when they reopen the theaters, they’re not going to give jobs to me.”
Hannah’s solution? Reinvent herself. “I paid to do a personal training course because I thought I’d start a new career as a fitness instructor.”
“I also started making TikToks and they were popping off, and I just kind of never got around to completing a single module of the course,” she laughs. “Two years later, I tried to get my money back and they were like, ‘No, it’s been over two years.’ Fair enough.”
Like so many of us during the pandemic, Hannah downloaded TikTok and got creative. “I missed my friends, missed auditions, missed the buzz. I was just bored, quoting musical theatre things in the Tesco stockroom, and thought someone out there must get it.” Her first video hit 10,000 views. “I was like, ‘Oh my God, I’m famous!’,” she says. Before long, one of her clips went properly viral.
Rylan Clark reposted her backstage “Tesco Theatre Tour” video, news outlets picked it up, and Hannah started to see that social media could open real-world doors. “Casting directors weren’t using TikTok at the time,” she says. “So I thought, if it’s on the news, they might actually see it.”
Eventually, they did. A friend introduced Hannah to a producer from Heathers, and she was offered an audition. “It all stemmed from TikTok. I’ll say that with my chest,” she grins. “It started because of TikTok.”
Hannah’s success hasn’t come without backlash. When a clip of her making a small mistake in Six was posted online, it sparked a wave of comments criticising her. “People were saying, ‘This is why you don’t cast TikTokers in shows’. It was literally three seconds of a 90-minute performance!”
She had a panic attack backstage afterwards. “I’d never experienced that feeling before. Luckily, I had a week’s holiday booked, so I just switched off my phone. Best thing I ever did.”
Now, Hannah’s learning to care less, or at least, to care selectively. “I’ve been reading about the Let Them theory,” she says. “If people want to post nasty comments, let them. I can’t change it. All I can control is how I react.”
Still, she admits it’s a work in progress. “Sometimes I’ll look up a video and go straight to the comments. It’s like I’m searching for something bad to read. But I’m getting better. I saw a video of me recently and was like, ‘Nope, not reading the comments’. Who cares?”
Despite the noise, Hannah loves creating content. “I enjoy making people laugh and connecting with people. That’s the performer in me. I love the applause, the attention, the community.”
She also knows when to tune out. “If I’m not feeling someone, I just mute them,” she says. “We should all use the mute feature more. Sometimes I’m really into gym content, then I go on holiday and I’m like, ‘Absolutely not, I don’t need that right now’.”
Asked what she’d tell young girls online, Hannah’s advice is simple. “Nothing is how it appears to be. You see your favourite influencer looking perfect, but guaranteed their whole day doesn’t look like that. Even those ‘clean girl aesthetic, wake-up-with-me’ videos, they’ve already woken up and pressed record. It’s not real. Don’t compare yourself to that.”
She pauses, then smiles. “Even I do it sometimes. I’ll post a job announcement and say, ‘I’m so excited!’ Maybe I am. Maybe I’m just tired. Either way, it’s okay.”
