Finding Confidence in Public Speaking
I believe that most of us have performed on stage or given a speech at some point in our lives. For me, I’ve done both. Was it by choice? Sometimes—most of the time, it wasn’t.
Growing up and going to school, you’re obligated to give a speech, perform in recitals, and participate in class. And for someone like me—shy, quiet, and incredibly reserved—those moments felt like torture. I was too fearful of being the center of attention. I just wanted to blend in, stay silent, and stay hidden.
But even with my doubts and nerves, I had no choice but to engage. That’s the thing about childhood and adolescence: you don’t get much of a say in what’s expected of you.
As I got older, the pressure only intensified. At a young age, we’re asked to perform, to be enthusiastic, to be social butterflies. There are so many expectations piled onto your shoulders that you lose sight of who you really are. I did, at least.
One of the clearest examples was in high school. I still remember being asked to study and perform William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. The performance was only for our class, but it was a large one. We split into groups and had to perform a certain act from the play.
I was cast as Juliet, and I despised it. I didn’t want to get up there and speak—let alone speak the words of someone who wrote with such poetic beauty and intensity. When it came time for my turn, I literally froze.
I remember being so nervous that I was uncontrollably shaking, sweating, and becoming disassociated. Oddly enough, that disassociation ended up saving me because I delivered my lines and acted quite well—at least I thought I did. I made it through without my voice cracking, which usually happens when I’m put in those situations. I gave myself a pat on the back afterward. But just because I got through it doesn’t mean it didn’t impact me.
As time went on, public speaking only became harder. In college, I had to take a mandatory speech class. I avoided it for as long as I possibly could. But once again, I had no choice.
I ended up finding a class where you only had to give four speeches during the semester—which felt like a blessing. But still, each speech, though thoughtful and creative, felt like climbing a mountain. I stood there with a tomato-red face, sweat glistening off my skin, and the shakiest voice you’ve ever heard. It was humiliating. To this day, I still think about those moments and cringe.
But not every experience was painful. There were times, though, when I chose to perform.
One of those times was in middle school, when I joined choir. I really enjoyed singing and being part of that class. There was something comforting about blending my voice with everyone else’s—like I could still express myself without being completely exposed.
Performances were mostly okay for me because I was with a large group of people. I wasn’t the only one in the spotlight, and that took so much of the pressure off. I could disappear into the harmony, be part of something beautiful, and stay safely tucked in the background. That made the difference.
Looking back, choir taught me something I didn’t realize at the time. I wasn’t afraid of expressing myself—I was afraid of being exposed. There’s a big difference.
And that realization has followed me into adulthood. When I felt supported—when I wasn’t alone under the spotlight—I could participate, contribute, and even enjoy it.
Now, as an adult, I’ve learned that it’s okay to be the quiet one. Not everyone is meant to command a stage or dominate a room full of people.
What matters more to me is being my authentic self—shaky voice and all. It’s who I am, and I’m finally at peace with that. I spent so much of my life trying to understand why I couldn’t “be like everyone else,” but now the picture is clearer.
I’m still learning how to exist in spaces that feel loud, overwhelming, and uncomfortable. But I’m also learning to accept that my presence is valuable—even if it’s quiet.
Have you ever performed on stage or given a speech?
“Owning our story and loving ourselves through that process is the bravest thing we’ll ever do.” — Brené Brown
#Anxiety #SocialAnxiety #SocialAnxietyDisorder #SocialPhobia #MentalHealth #ADHD #Neurodiversity #Depression
