I have a presentation to give this week. It isn’t long; it isn’t involved. I think about it and I want to be prepared, data in hand, intended outcomes known. I won’t obsess over it but I could. There was a time not all that long ago that I did, that I thought through and practiced every single delivered word, each phrase written on note cards and rehearsed while reclined during hours of insomnia. Public speaking used to be debilitating for me. I say that with little exaggeration, more acknowledgement of what once was rather than is. In the 11th grade, I was tasked with giving a presentation on A Separate Peace. It could have been any book. I considered ways to escape the country, to get myself hospitalized, plotting how I might send regrets with two mangled legs, the result of a tragic garbage disposal accident. My heart didn’t sink, but almost burst, when my slotted presentation time was bumped until the following Monday. It isn’t a wonder that public speaking is the number one phobia in our world with dying a close second. We’d rather cease breathing than be judged by those around us.
I’ve come a long way since then. I present, I talk, I tell jokes when my mother requests them at family gatherings. My heart has yet to explode. Yet I know there’s more. I want to be the woman who embraces the spotlight and not just for impromptu storytelling on a night out. I want to be my college bestest, the woman who took Public Speaking 101 during our freshman year when the rest of us were taking golf and bird watching just to escape it. I want to shine. I want to enunciate in the way that people do when they’re comfortable in their minds, want to tell anecdotes off the cuff and fill in important details because I’m centered, focused. I want to be at ease in discussion, unfazed by the eyes around me, seldom a consideration for what the thoughts are behind them. I want to be the me professionally that I am among those I know who accept me. Problem is, just how do I get there?
19 Comments
One word: liquor.
If you find out, let me know.
Although I did get an “A” in Oral Performance of Literature, which was thoughtfully provided by my school as an alternative to Public Speaking. Not that different except you didn’t have to write your own stuff, which saved lots of time. My best grade? On a passage from “Mommie Dearest.” What’s not to love?
At the risk of a swift punch in the junk, I’m going to say you’re already there. Well – there on the outside. No one would think you were less than polished, knowledgeable, capable; what’s missing is your own self-regard and the objectivity to be comfortable and accepting of the smart, incredibly accomplished lady you are.
I know that’s about as helpful as suggesting that you close your eyes and count to 100 when you’re insomniacking, but the bottom line for me is that no matter how you feel internally about it, you’re impressive as hell from the audience.
(Cue Fernando’s “You Look Mahvelous.”)
My oral presentation on A Separate Peace will haunt me for the rest of my life. I can still feel the sweat starting and my face getting redder and redder then the disappointed head shake my 10th grade teacher game me afterwards.
It probably would have helped to actually have read the whole book first, but I tend to overlook such minor details.
I absolutely hate public speaking. But it sounds like you’re on the right track if you’re not freaking out over your presentation. And the more you do it, the more you will be able to embrace the spotlight…
Libby — does this work in professional situations? I imagine dancing on tables might be involved.
Finn — please say there is video footage of said endeavor.
Monkey — this is one of the loveliest things you’ve ever said to me. Will save junkpunching for ninja caulkers and robots.
Keith — I’m pretty sure we just confirmed that you’re smarter than I. You read it in 10th grade? Pretty sure that’s the year we focused on Are You My Mother?
Tutu — I do find that the “picture them naked” thing helps. Unless your mom is in the audience. AWKWARD.
I find that copious quantities of espresso laced with Valium help immensely.
Little bits at a time, mate. Practice is key- but you knew that. Small successes and positive audience feedback are huge… plant a good friend in the audience to give you a friendly face to focus on.
Join Toastmasters. My sister did after landing a job that required her to give presentations all over the state. She said it’s made an amazing difference and it’s fun. I plan to find a chapter near me eventually, since I’d like to eliminate that particular phobia as well.
But you’re so charming! I have such a hard time imagining you as a poor public speaker.
But the booze and valium suggestions? Genius…even for those of us with no problem with public speaking.
I have the same dream but not the phobia of public speaking. I still wonder how I get there.
I had to take public speaking in high school, and over the course of the class everyone was required to give three or four speeches. I volunteered to go first every time, but only because I hated the thought of speaking in front of my classmates. Anything to get it over with.
I, too, would love to be the person who captivates an audience instead of alienating them with my shaky voice. Perhaps one day.
Well, I don’t know how, but I wish you the best of luck. My last big speech was in college; it was a good speech, and my final one of the semester, however I was also in labor with my first child so it was more like a “pace it and get ‘er done” kind of motivation… I hardly remember wrapping it up but I got it all out (the speech, not the baby), then said to my “audience” of classmates, “And now please excuse me, I need to get to the hospital”.
So one method I’d recommend is Be In Labor. No? Ok then, Plan B, picture them naked. Everyone except your mom, that is. LOL…
I’ve been giving talks at my job for awhile. It helps me to know that when I give the talk I am the expert. It’s easier to think that I’m teaching something rather than trying to present data for approval. Not sure if that helps, but as I tend to be a bit of a know-it-all it helps me gain control of my shaky voice and hands.
Good news: At least you’re not me! I vomit before literally EVERY SINGLE public speaking engagement.
Titanium — such good advice. Is it odd that I find it worse when people in the audience know me?
Valerie — I have given that some thought, actually. Would very much like to master toasts, to be honest.
K — OH I AM CHARMING. ;) I think I come across well (maybe?) but I don’t enjoy the process. I’d like to enjoy it, maybe even look forward to it? the way that some people (on crack) seem to.
B — I wish us both luck in finding that place.
Kate — I used that strategy too! Funny how people thought we were just overachievers, eh?
MamaT — That’s hilarious! Now of course, I’m picturing my mom in labor. GAH.
Smurf — I love this idea. I love to be right (*cough*) so this might help me psychologically. I’m going to try it.
Sweetheart — WHAT?!? ONOES. Can a doc give you anything for that? Really. That has to be awful for you.
Practice does make perfect. And I think the better you feel about yourself externally and internally you will feel more at ease. I’ve met you and, friend, you DO shine. You just need to believe it.
xo
I have a feeling you’re one of those folks that radiate confidence on the outside when in public but are secretly failing inside. And yet, as Monkey said, to the audience, you shine.
I second Titanium’s advice.
Remember when we met? I think it was a BlogHer thing in DC. I have no idea how I can get up in front of people and talk but, somehow I do. I think I just assume people generally are so absorbed by their own lives that, yeah, maybe I’ll get their attention. Hopefully I’m saying something of value. But if I don’t, eh. No biggie. Chances are they’re worried about their own lives. Mortgages. Kids. Pets. Hangnails. Whether anyone else will notice they just farted.
You know how it goes.
:)
You’re hysterically funny and genuine. And anyway if anyone did anything stupid, just tell us and we’ll go kick their asses.
you are funny and witty therefore anything you say is golden. i KNOW this to be true as i’ve you seen you for myself!
and i have a tendency to take Xanax or Valium before speaking. the drugs help me lengthen my speech to more than 5 minutes.