How Public Speaking Changed My Life
Learning the superpower of being comfortable with fear.
Do you hate speaking in public? I know I used to.
For me, my heart gives out first. It would skip a beat and come back all the stronger as if trying to hammer its way out of my rib cage.
Then, the pit in my stomach opens. It would feel like I was imploding, like my entire being was getting sucked into my body.
Then, my limbs would shake slightly. Never something obvious — enough to make sure that I know it’s happening, but no one else.
Your mind goes white with fear, disconnected from the rest of your body. Specifically, disconnects from your tongue. Good luck saying anything meaningful while you’re in that state.
But what bothered me the most was the cold sweat. Like your body was going crazy, mixing up its signals. We all know the doom of this, the chills we get when we just know something horrifying will happen.
I remember the sheer, unadulterated terror that a 15-year-old body can produce whenever it is called to do anything remotely resembling public speaking. Classroom reports? Oral recitation? That moment when a small group turns towards you in anticipation of what you will say?
Terrifying.
Taking the Reigns
That’s not me anymore, but I can still remember it all so clearly.
I’ve always been aware of that issue, but it was only as I was starting my college years that I decided to do something about it by joining my University’s debate club.
But it wasn’t as easy as that, of course. I knew that it would be a difficult path. If I joined, I would be the worst one out there because I had no talent. Plus, it would be a significant time commitment for a then-engineering student who was terrible at studying.
But I looked at the reverse.
I imagined myself having that fear for the rest of my life. I imagined my next years in college, where there will surely be more reports and discussions. I imagined applying for a job. I imagined trying to make new friendships and relationships in a foreign place.
As terrible as putting myself under public scrutiny might have been, the thought of a future living in fear filled me with so much dread and hopelessness. Anything was better than that.
If I was going to suffer either way, I might as well suffer with the possibility of getting better. In my mind, I was merely choosing the lesser evil. But that’s when my life began to change.
Making Peace With Fear
So there I was. And it was every bit as difficult as I thought it would be.
Learning how to speak in public is demanding. Not just the technicalities of it, such as what to say, when to say it, and how to talk. But learning to express yourself in front of people is staring eye to eye with your insecurities and trying to master them.
I learned to question where the fear was coming from and found my answer: I was afraid of humiliation, of getting laughed at while I failed.
But once I realized that everyone — literally everyone — feels the same way, it unlocked an entirely different world for me.
In the Philippines, the most popular competitive debate formats are Asian Parliamentary and British Parliamentary. These debate formats require you to be in teams of either three for AsParl or two for BritParl. Our club’s competition teams are not set — they are decided through compatibility during practices.
This means you will team up with many different people during the practices. And let me tell you, in every one of the practices, my teammates and I would always be nervous.
And it’s not just during practices.
Once I learned to look for the signs, I saw them everywhere. I joined regional and national competitions for debate and extemporaneous speech. It’s all there, even in the highest stages.
I’ve witnessed everyone panic before their presentation. I’ve glimpsed experienced speakers, sweat, and panic behind the stage. I’ve heard the voices of national grand finalists crack and break while they talk. If you look hard enough, you can see the telltale signs of a one-second panic in a speech with millions of views on YouTube.
This, to me, was incredibly comforting. Everyone feels nervous — and why don’t they? We’re all human. Once I realized that fear and uncertainty are normal and universal, it was much easier to make peace with them.
After all, if everybody becomes nervous, then what’s there to be ashamed of?
A Superpower
Make no mistake — I’m no one special. I never did win the championship of any of those competitions I joined. I never became “the best” or the “top speaker,” or things like that. Even today, I would still feel slightly nervous if ever asked to do any speaking engagements.
But I’ve managed to nail group job interviews where applicants older and more qualified than I am stammered in their speech. I’m level-headed, and others panic because of passion, anger, or fear. I can stand up in a room and talk properly. I’m comfortable with talking to strangers.
A far cry from that terrified 15-year-old.
And once you’ve gained the superpower of making peace with fear, the benefits don’t stop with public speaking. Fear is a universal thing, and once you learn to accept it and make peace with it, the barriers to entry of literally anything in life become much less.
In short, making peace with fear makes everything much, much easier.
