Siren Theatre Company and Scissor Kick will tour the debut solo show from artist Emma Lynne Harley (The Last Days of Mankind, Leith Theatre, Theatre Labor; In the Light of Day, Scottish tour; TXT ME: Cyber Showcase and Online Protest, Gaiety Theatre), Walking on Eggshells across Scotland this May. Based on Harley’s personal experiences as a queer, neurodivergent artist, this sharp production brings together autobiographical theatre, cabaret, stand-up, scientific research, and a generous dose of pop music to explore lived experiences of trauma and recovery.
 |
| Photo by Andy Catlin. Graphic Design by Gallusness |
Audiences are invited on a musical rollercoaster as Walking on Eggshells explores ideas including brain chemistry as a form of time travel and cultural imprint of pop music. Through a narrative shaped by lived experience and research, the production humorously unpacks survival and recovery from Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (C-PTSD), while asking what it means to “move on” after an abusive relationship.
We caught up with Emma to laern more about the show.
What can you tell me about Walking on Eggshells and the inspiration behind it?
Walking On Eggshells uses cabaret, pop music, bird analogies, science communication, a life-size skeleton, a time machine, eggs, and autobiography to talk about expectations around love, and healing from toxic love.
Walking On Eggshells uses cabaret, pop music, bird analogies, science communication, a life-size skeleton, a time machine, eggs, and autobiography to talk about expectations around love, and healing from toxic love.
At the beginning, I didn’t actually set out to write about being in an abusive relationship: I had a brief to create an Easter cabaret act. I based this set around a "crazy chick" (as in the Charlotte Church song). There are SO. Many. Songs. about the feeling of losing your mind, in love with someone who is not necessarily good for you! At the time, I was only a couple of years out of a long-term emotionally abusive relationship, so I related to these great songs in a new way, and threaded bits of autobiography stand-up style between each one. It featured a bed sheet with the word "egg" on it, my old prom dress, and a cardboard cut-out of Donald Trump. It was ridiculous, and the feedback from that was to make it into something bigger - so I did!
The heart of that very much remains in this version. It’s refreshing to be able to build conversations about the cultural messaging around love and abuse without the sombre tone of "I'm so sorry" that often comes with these kinds of conversations.
The show is described as an autobiographical crack at CPTSD. How do you find the line where trauma becomes funny without losing its weight?
While traumatic things absolutely should be handled sensitively, I don’t think that means communication around it should be serious in tone. It’s really important to find ways to laugh about hard things. From an instinctual place, one of the first means we have to communicate is through laughing and smiling. Laughter is a huge way to signal to others that “things are okay”. Babies laugh at peekaboo, because their lack of object permanence means effectively the person playing with them has vanished (potentially scary!) and has now reappeared (you’re back! Everything’s okay!). As taboo as it is, there is a biological purpose behind the urge that some people have to laugh at funerals. Laughing makes us feel good, and it’s important to be able to feel good in the face of trauma.
While traumatic things absolutely should be handled sensitively, I don’t think that means communication around it should be serious in tone. It’s really important to find ways to laugh about hard things. From an instinctual place, one of the first means we have to communicate is through laughing and smiling. Laughter is a huge way to signal to others that “things are okay”. Babies laugh at peekaboo, because their lack of object permanence means effectively the person playing with them has vanished (potentially scary!) and has now reappeared (you’re back! Everything’s okay!). As taboo as it is, there is a biological purpose behind the urge that some people have to laugh at funerals. Laughing makes us feel good, and it’s important to be able to feel good in the face of trauma.
As for “finding the line”, I enjoy creating material on either side of the light and dark, and putting lightness directly next to the heaviness that exists. I’ve had enough of my own trauma to not want myself or my audience to sit in that for too long. The way I’ve written this utilises quite short scenes, and blending cabaret is so helpful in that if we do go someplace uncomfortable, it can easily slide into something much lighter and sparklier. It’s less about making trauma funny, and more about finding linked and parallel paths back into a space that allows for laughter, understanding, and enjoyment without needing to linger in a traumatised space.
Writing a show about trauma gives you a script and a rehearsal schedule. Does having a structured performance make the chaos of CPTSD feel more manageable, or is it terrifying to have your most vulnerable moments become a product for an audience?
The structure of the performance is gloriously chaotic by design, and has been very carefully controlled and refined through the writing, development, and rehearsal process.
The structure of the performance is gloriously chaotic by design, and has been very carefully controlled and refined through the writing, development, and rehearsal process.
As a cabaret performer and actor who has regularly worked in bars, schools, and public spaces, it’s imperative to be able to hold an audience or room well for a multitude of reasons. It’s unfortunately likely that there will be folk in the audience who may have experienced similar things, so that ability to keep people safe and held throughout the show is dependent on me being in the state where people feel safe to engage in the work, where people know I am okay, too.
While there is vulnerability in my experience, I have to be comfortable discussing and sharing these repeatedly in a rehearsal environment, and again for an audience. This has all been considered both in the writing and the playing of the material, as well as in our thinking around process design from day one of applying for funding. The stage is a heightened place to be, and with 10 years of healing behind me, I'm not going to risk putting anything on stage that I know could pick at the edges of that. Stories demand an ending, but life after an autobiographical story has been told goes on.
Walking on Eggshells is a common phrase for living with an abuser. How does your show reclaim that phrase for the survivor rather than the victim?
The show follows the life-cycle of a Chick in a pretty literal way, narrated David Attenborough nature documentary-style. We see them hatch, watch them learn about the world, grow up, fall in love, experience the onset of PTSD symptoms, and then fall in love again and have to manage those two things at once.
The show follows the life-cycle of a Chick in a pretty literal way, narrated David Attenborough nature documentary-style. We see them hatch, watch them learn about the world, grow up, fall in love, experience the onset of PTSD symptoms, and then fall in love again and have to manage those two things at once.
For people with CPTSD, the hormones produced when experiencing trauma continue to be released long after the trauma ends. It changes the way your brain works in a way to be able to adapt and stay safe in the face of danger, but it also changes what you instinctually recognise as dangerous. Long-term, when the Chick begins to experience danger-responses to perfectly normal things, this is what the Chick has to overcome. So, the Eggshells are more what the Chick has to navigate long-term: the pieces of a framework that their brain has created which is now more of a hindrance than a help, scattered across surprise moments in time.
You dive into the neuroscience of CPTSD. How did understanding the physical wiring of your brain change the way you viewed your own recovery?
I’ve always sought to know the “why” of things. Knowing why something that is supposed to help me, as well as the how, reinforces my motivation for doing it. With things like CPTSD that ebb and flow, there is no quick or easy fix: so knowing how things work together is helpful when things don't go to plan the first time round. Because they often don't - learning about the science behind it all allowed me to look more objectively at my own thought processes, and understand myself better in relation to it.
I’ve always sought to know the “why” of things. Knowing why something that is supposed to help me, as well as the how, reinforces my motivation for doing it. With things like CPTSD that ebb and flow, there is no quick or easy fix: so knowing how things work together is helpful when things don't go to plan the first time round. Because they often don't - learning about the science behind it all allowed me to look more objectively at my own thought processes, and understand myself better in relation to it.
The show asks what it truly means to move on. In your research and writing, did you find that moving on is a destination, or more of a theoretical physics concept that doesn't actually exist in a straight line?
This is a great question! There is an ongoing scientific thread throughout the show that talks about this, but it’s not an easy one to answer objectively. Moving on is quite a personal thing, and little milestones towards that are all wins that should be recognised. Personally, I don’t think there is one ultimate destination – though there might be chapters that end, with a new page on the other side.
This is a great question! There is an ongoing scientific thread throughout the show that talks about this, but it’s not an easy one to answer objectively. Moving on is quite a personal thing, and little milestones towards that are all wins that should be recognised. Personally, I don’t think there is one ultimate destination – though there might be chapters that end, with a new page on the other side.
Why did sci-fi feel like a natural fit for describing the experience of trauma? Does CPTSD ever feel like living in a different dimension or timeline?
There’s always been something of the sci-fi in how I’ve been able to talk about my own experiences around trauma.
There’s always been something of the sci-fi in how I’ve been able to talk about my own experiences around trauma.
I’m a huge sci-fi fan, and at first this thread came into the show through bits of audio from the “Alien” franchise with a documentary about Fabergé eggs. I loved the idea of some glamorous creature leaping out of one of those face-hugger eggs to ambush John Hurt and breaking into song instead.
When I knew I was going to go further down the road to theatre shows, I was more deeply researching PTSD, and there’s a lot of academic material surrounding how PTSD can impact a person’s perception of time – I knew I was on the right track creatively. At the same time, I was also finding thematic links to models of time in theoretical physics. So, the sci-fi inspiration remains, geared towards time travel, with strong scientific roots.
Outwith the creative work, the more I read about PTSD and CPTSD, the more my own experiences seemed to make sense. It can definitely feel, when I’ve had flashbacks, like I’ve suddenly entered a wormhole into my past.
 |
| Photo by Calvard Creative. |
If your CPTSD had a "Year in Review" Spotify Wrapped, what would be the top three songs?
The inspo playlist I made while writing W.O.E. is almost seven hours long, so I’m prioritising songs that aren’t in the show!
“(You Drive Me) Crazy” by Britney Spears
“Bulletproof” by La Roux
“Unwritten” by Natasha Bedingfield
The inspo playlist I made while writing W.O.E. is almost seven hours long, so I’m prioritising songs that aren’t in the show!
“(You Drive Me) Crazy” by Britney Spears
“Bulletproof” by La Roux
“Unwritten” by Natasha Bedingfield
For those who are unaware of your work, how would you describe your comedy style?
As a performer, I’ve been called “a gay Britney Spears confetti explosion” which will maybe never be topped.
As a performer, I’ve been called “a gay Britney Spears confetti explosion” which will maybe never be topped.
In this show specifically, there are a lot of egg puns, some moments of clown, lots of double entendres, and general bizarreness. There's some funny writing with the cleverness of the research behind it juxtaposed with some downright silly stuff including Britney music, dance routines and SO many props. It's pretty quick, witty, smart and silly (so I've been told!).
What was the first piece of theatre you remember having a big impact on your life?
If you go WAY back, you're probably talking about The Singing Kettle. But the first piece of theatre that made me go "I need to make this my career" was the NTS and Frantic Assembly production of Beautiful Burnout by Bryony Lavery. I'd signed up for a spare space on the year above's school trip, and when I found out it was about boxing, I wasn't very enthusiastic. But it was incredible - the staging, the energy, the movement, the music, the story, all of it completely drew me in. It was so incredibly alive, full of unexpected moments like people crawling out of washing machines and a banging Underworld soundtrack that I have a clear memory of thinking on the coach back that I wanted to make stuff like THAT.
If you go WAY back, you're probably talking about The Singing Kettle. But the first piece of theatre that made me go "I need to make this my career" was the NTS and Frantic Assembly production of Beautiful Burnout by Bryony Lavery. I'd signed up for a spare space on the year above's school trip, and when I found out it was about boxing, I wasn't very enthusiastic. But it was incredible - the staging, the energy, the movement, the music, the story, all of it completely drew me in. It was so incredibly alive, full of unexpected moments like people crawling out of washing machines and a banging Underworld soundtrack that I have a clear memory of thinking on the coach back that I wanted to make stuff like THAT.
What keeps you inspired?
Learning! I don’t know how I’d ever manage to be inspired again without it.
What would you hope someone takes away from seeing Walking on Eggshells?
I hope people leave having had a brilliant time – maybe with a new piece of knowledge or thing that stays with them after they leave the room. They will definitely leave with a song in their head, maybe with a new understanding of it! And I hope that people come away with a new perspective on how we can talk about difficult things.
Walking on Eggshells plays at Summerhall in Edinburgh on Thursday 14th, Friday 15th and Saturday 16th May 2026 at 8pm. For tickets, visit https://www.summerhallarts.co.uk/event/walking-on-eggshells/2026-05-14/
The show also plays Pailsey Arts Centre on Friday 22nd May 2026 at 7.30pm. For tickets, visit https://www.oneren.org/whats-on/events/walking-on-eggshells/
iday 22 May 20
Post a Comment