So You Hate Public Speaking? Same.
But if you want people to follow you, you have to learn how to be heard.
When you really think about it, public speaking is a very rude thing to ask of a person.
Not only does it require you to stand in front of other humans, use your actual voice, control your facial expressions, remember words in the correct order, appear somewhat confident, and breathe like a normal mammal... but somehow, you’re supposed to do all of that without blacking out.
That’s a lot to ask from someone who was perfectly happy being useful from the back of the room.
So if you hate public speaking, I get it. If your stomach drops the second someone says, “And now to present…” I understand you, on a cellular level. If you have ever agreed to speak at something and then immediately wondered who authorized that version of you, welcome.
Apparently, we meet here in mild panic mode… dressed in business casual. Or in my case, a polka dot dress because I thought it might force me to be more “fun.”
The part where I did this to myself
Last night, I spoke at an event called DisruptHR. If you haven’t heard of it, check it out. It is part of a global network, which sounds exciting and professional until you realize what that actually means: for the first time, I would be on film, speaking to an international audience, with potentially thousands of viewers.
And because the internet is basically a haunted attic where everything lives forever, that video will now exist somewhere forever (or until the robots take over).
No pressure. 😅
To sum it up, in case you only want to read this first part and then move on with your day: it was absolutely the most thrilling five-minute presentation I have ever done.
Now, if you want the longer, more emotionally unstable version… it was also the kind of thing I immediately regretted applying for once it became real. My brain started asking fair and reasonable questions, such as: What was I thinking? Who let me do this? Why did I voluntarily sign up to be perceived?
The ironic part is that I am not a professional speaker, and I don’t particularly want to be one. I want to write. I want to run my business. I want to be useful in the background (quietly, with minimal viewers and preferably no camera angles).
But here is an annoying truth I keep running into: one day, I do plan to write a book. And unfortunately, I am not ignorant to the fact that it is pretty hard to sell a book when no one knows who the heck you are. I mean, at some point, songwriters have to be willing to sing their songs in public, don’t they?
So, here we are. Saying yes to terrifying opportunities, standing in front of a packed room, and doing “the thing” against our better judgment… allegedly for personal growth.
The part where my brain said “nope.”
The morning of the event, we had our first run-through, and I walked up to practice in front of everyone. And I feel like I cannot emphasize this enough: these people were nothing but genuinely kind, supportive, and encouraging every step of the way.
I had prepared. I knew my topic. I knew what I wanted to say. I had rehearsed it enough times in my office that my cat probably could have performed portions of it (which would have been way more entertaining, I’m sure).
What I had not prepared for was my nervous system staging a full-blown coup d'état… immediately triggering the soundtrack from my high school punk phase, complete with my heart trying to crowd-surf directly out of my chest.
I got up there, looked out, and immediately felt like I might pass out. My heart was racing so fast I could barely hear my own thoughts, which was unfortunate because I very much needed those thoughts at that exact moment.
Slide one came up and every word I had planned to say vanished from my brain, like it had been deleted from the shared drive by a spiteful intern with admin access.
Not misplaced. Not temporarily delayed. GONE.
And then (because apparently this disaster cake needed icing), I could hear the tremble in my own voice, which distracted me even more because one of my deepest personal discomforts is doing something poorly in front of an audience. Even when that audience is kind, generous, and very clearly rooting for me.
Truly, what a fun little personality feature.
So there I was… trying to remember my words, manage my breathing, pretend my body wasn’t actively betraying me, and deliver a presentation that would live forever on the internet.
You know, just a calm little Tuesday evening activity. Highly recommend if you enjoy emotional cardio.
The part where I admit the discomfort was the whole point.
Here’s the part I hate admitting: public speaking does not come naturally to me. My body made that extremely clear. But that experience was exactly why I needed to do it.
Not because I suddenly became fearless. I didn’t walk away thinking, “You know what? Public speaking is my passion now. Somebody get me a headset mic, a signature keynote, and a LinkedIn banner photo of me pointing at something.”
Absolutely not. Let’s not get carried away.
I needed to do it because if you’re trying to build something, lead people, share ideas, grow a business, write a book, or influence anyone in any meaningful way, you eventually have to get comfortable being seen. Even when being seen is the exact part you would prefer to skip.
Yes, even if you hate how obnoxiously stressed it makes you. Yes, even if your voice shakes. Yes, even if your brain briefly leaves the building. And yes, even if you would much rather be quietly brilliant in the corner with a laptop and a coffee, because some of us were born to be behind-the-scenes (some of us is me in this story).
Because strong leadership requires strong communication, and strong communication often requires visibility… which feels personally rude, but remains unfortunately true.
Surprise! Managers Are Already Public Speakers.
This is the part where I get to the point, which feels important since this is technically a series about management.
A lot of managers don’t think of themselves as public speakers because they aren’t standing on a stage under dramatic lighting, clicking through a presentation called “Unlocking Excellence Through Synergy” (I know, ick).
But if you lead people, you’re already presenting. Every team meeting, process change, feedback conversation, training session, policy rollout, or attempt to get buy-in from a room full of tired people who didn’t ask for this update but are about to receive it anyway? That counts.
And if your message is unclear, scattered, defensive, overly complicated, or delivered like you’re apologizing for taking up space, people feel that. They may not say it out loud (because most people are just trying to survive the meeting without making eye contact), but they feel it.
And the brutal truth is, that feeling matters.
Quite a lot in fact, because it affects whether people trust you. It affects whether they understand you. It affects whether they actually want to follow you.
People can’t follow what they don’t understand.
Managers love to say, “I told them that already,” as if saying words once means communication has successfully occurred.
Maybe you did tell them. But did you say it clearly? Did you explain what mattered? Did you connect the dots? Did you give people the actual takeaway?
Or did you verbally walk into the room, open fourteen mental tabs, take the scenic route through your thought process, and then end with, “So… yeah”?
(No judgment here… I’ve met me).
But when leaders communicate in circles, teams start guessing. And guessing is where workplace chaos likes to move in, unpack, and get very comfortable.
People leave meetings unsure of priorities.
Employees interpret the same message five different ways.
Accountability gets messy.
And somehow, “change” somehow becomes everyone’s problem and no one’s responsibility.
Then everyone acts shocked when the thing that was “clearly communicated” was not, in fact, clearly communicated.
Clarity matters.
Not because leaders need to sound fancy, polished, or corporate enough to be printed on a brochure… but because people are busy, distracted, overwhelmed, and trying to figure out what actually matters.
A good leader helps make that easier.
Good News: You don’t have to become a “Speaker Person”
Listen, you don’t have to love public speaking to do it well.
You don’t have to become one of those people who says, “I just feel so alive on stage,” which is a sentence I fully respect, but don’t personally understand.
You don’t have to become a motivational speaker with a headset mic and a tragic amount of enthusiasm.
You also don’t have to become louder, flashier, more extroverted, or suddenly obsessed with “commanding the room.” Some of us don’t want to command the room. Some of us would prefer to gently influence the room from a respectful distance, and then go home to recharge our social battery.
And that’s okay.
Being a strong communicator doesn’t mean becoming someone else. It means learning how to make your point in a way people can actually receive. It means knowing what you’re trying to say before you start saying it. It means understanding your audience well enough to explain why they should care.
You just have to become clear enough for people to follow you, thoughtful enough for people to trust you, and interesting enough for people to stay with you.
That is the skill.
And like most skills, you don’t build it by avoiding every opportunity to practice it.
I know. Rude.
Confidence Usually Shows Up Late
Most of us want confidence before we do the scary thing, but confidence is rarely courteous enough to arrive on time. It usually shows up after you sign up, after you practice, after you embarrass yourself a little, after you survive the thing you were convinced might spiritually end you.
Confidence shows up after you realize that nervous does not mean incapable, shaky does not mean weak, and doing something imperfectly in front of people is not actually the end of your credibility. Sometimes, it is the beginning of a stronger version of it.
Because people don’t need leaders who are perfect. They need leaders who are willing.
Willing to speak clearly, willing to be seen, willing to grow, willing to stand up in front of the room even when their body is sending intense “absolutely not” signals.
And if your body sends those signals while you’re standing there in a polka dot dress trying to cosplay as relaxed and whimsical… yes, that counts too.
Interesting doesn’t mean “spirit fingers”
When I say leaders need to be interesting, I don’t mean they need to entertain everyone like they’re auditioning for a Netflix special.
Please don’t start your next staff meeting with “spirit fingers” unless you’re actively looking for an exit strategy… because nothing helps a leader lose credibility faster than forced enthusiasm and unsolicited choreography.
Being interesting means your message has a point. It means you know why your audience should care, and you can explain it without drowning people in vague corporate fog.
It means you can give a real example, tell a short story, make the information land.
It means you can pause without panicking, read the room without spiraling, and stop talking before everyone’s eyes glaze over and someone starts checking their email under the table.
In business, brevity is a love language. So is having a point.
Annoying truth moment: Avoiding it won’t make you better.
Avoiding public speaking does not protect you from looking incompetent or unconfident. It just keeps the fear in charge.
Every time you say no because you’re scared, that fear gets a little more convincing. It says, “See? We survived because we avoided that.” And honestly, fear makes a decent point. A deeply unhelpful one, but still.
Because sometimes survival is not the goal, growth is. And growth usually requires some very uncomfortable reps.
So this is what I’d like to say to all of my readers (all 14 of you):
Say yes to the presentation.
Volunteer to lead the training.
Speak at the networking event.
Give the team update.
Pitch the idea.
Record yourself practicing, even though watching it back may feel like the definition of cringe.
Do it anyway.
Not because it will be perfect, but because it will make you better.
The win is doing it while afraid.
I will not pretend I floated through my DisruptHR experience with effortless confidence. I did not. I had a full nervous system event. There were moments where my heart was pounding, my voice was shaking, and my brain was acting like it had never agreed to participate in this experiment.
And there were plenty of moments when I deflected with self-deprecating jokes to hide the fact that my fight-or-flight response had fully kicked in, and flight was a real contender.
To everyone at the event who dealt with that particular obnoxious version of me: I genuinely thank you for your service.
Back to the real point… I did it.
And that matters.
Sometimes the win is not that you crushed it without fear, sometimes the win is that you did it while afraid. You stood up there anyway. You made the point anyway. You let people see you try. You survived being visible.
That is not small.
And for managers and leaders, that kind of courage matters because your team is watching more than your polish. They’re watching your willingness.
Your willingness to communicate when it would be easier to stay quiet.
Your willingness to grow when it would be easier to hide.
Your willingness to do the uncomfortable thing, because the message matters more than your fear.
From One Public-Speaking-Hater to Another
You do not have to love it.
You do not have to become a professional speaker. You do not have to chase stages, build a speaking empire, or start every sentence like you’re about to change someone’s life in 47 seconds. No hate. I love those people (Mel Robbins is my jam). I am just not those people.
You can still be the person who would rather write, work quietly, run your business in the background, or be helpful without being watched by potentially thousands of people on the internet until the end of time.
BUT… if you want people to follow you, trust you, understand you, buy from you, learn from you, hire you, promote you, read your work, support your ideas, or believe in what you are building, you have to learn how to speak.
Clearly, thoughtfully, and just interestingly enough that people want to keep listening.
So here’s your official sign to take the next opportunity to sign up for the thing that terrifies you. Say yes before fear kicks in and flight takes over.
Then: prepare, practice, and breath. Do not apologize for existing. Make the point.
And then do it again.
Because public speaking may always feel a little terrifying, but hiding from it will not make you a better leader.
Doing the thing just might.
HR for Humans.
Practical, a little sarcastic, and built for real life.