Heavy
You believe a high standard is being held over you: that your mistakes get noticed and remembered, and that being thought well of depends on performing well. Of the three directions, this is the one the research treats least kindly, because it is the hardest to satisfy — the bar belongs to someone else, so meeting it doesn't retire it. The important question this level raises is whether the audience is real. Some rooms genuinely do keep score, and reading that accurately is information rather than anxiety; some of them are rooms you left years ago that still get a vote. If this is with you most days, or it keeps you from starting things, that is worth saying out loud to someone qualified.
Moderate
You're aware of being seen without living inside it. Some situations put a real bar over you and you can feel the difference between those and the ones where nothing is at stake — expectations register as information about the room rather than as a running verdict on you. This is a useful calibration and an underrated one: people who feel nothing miss real expectations, and people who feel everything can't act. The cost is occasional rather than constant, and it shows up in the middle: the situations that are genuinely ambiguous take more out of you than either of the clear cases does.
Light
You don't walk around feeling measured. Your sense of standing with the people who matter to you doesn't rise and fall with what you produce, and you assume, on the whole, that your mistakes are less interesting to other people than they are to you — which is usually true. That is a considerable protection, and it is most of what separates a demanding standard that stays workable from one that grinds. What it can cost is signal. Not feeling the room is comfortable, and occasionally it means an expectation that was real, reasonable and clearly communicated to everyone else arrives to you late.