When your parents push you to play
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The lady in the grey suit thinks you’re cute
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The hand position clearly suggests that you were playing Scarbo from Ravel's Gaspard de la Nuit.
Great photo!
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In all seriousness, George... not that I play often, but I have always disliked playing in public or in front of others. Always. It's selfish, perhaps, but playing the piano is a 100% "for myself" thing. I enjoy it, the hard work, the melody, the repetition, the satisfaction.
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My parents emigrated to the US in 1949, and moved to the Chicago area in 1955. There was a reasonably large group of Lithuanian immigrants in the area, and every 6 months or so, they would rent a hall and have a party. There were usually about 50-60 people there. Food and alcohol were plentiful.
By the time I was 12-13 (1963), I had been playing for a few years, and I got pressured into playing something for the group. For some reason, I felt I had to memorize the piece - maybe no one would turn pages? - and that added to the stress.
I absolutely hated it. It was the most sweaty-palm, nerve-wracking experience. I must've done it a dozen times before I finally was able to say no.
The one good thing is that in one piece I played (First movement of the Grieg e-minor sonata), there was a tricky section that I always flubbed. However, the intro and outro of that section were such that, if I completely avoided that page, no one would notice.
Today, if I had to do it, I'd take a little beta-blocker to reduce the "flight or fight" response. Some people, like @mark have commented that they enjoy performing. Bless them, but I'm not in that camp, at all.
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The last time I played in public I told the audience that I was happy to take requests, which led to a number of suggestions which I can't really repeat here.
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I get nervous playing in front of myself
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It gets worse.
Since the Lithuanian community in Chicago was fairly close-knit, everyone knew everyone. Or, at least everyone knew someone who knew someone. There were two or three major enclaves - in the city, it was the Marquette Park neighborhood. In the suburbs it was Melrose Park, and to a lesser extent Cicero.
Anyhow, a friend of my parents knew a guy who knew a guy who was in charge of programming for the local Lithuanian TV channel. It broadcast once a week, on a Wednesday evening, iirc. I don't remember how long the program was.
Nevertheless, "Hey, there's this kid who's not bad at the piano, let's get him to play on TV."
Talk about anxiety-provoking.
I was 16.
