We talk about nerves before speaking all the time, don’t we?
How awful they feel. The wobble. The dry, clicky mouth. The racing fecking brain. Hey, even the sudden urge to fake your own death to avoid it instead.
But I don’t think we talk enough about the bit after.
The absolutely cracking rush you get when you do the thing… and it goes okay. You survived!
After my first talk back in 2026 in January (shout-out Marketing Meetup Newcastle!), lordy did I get a rush! And, honestly? I’d forgotten how good that bit feels.
I hadn’t done a talk in a while. I’ve been elbows-deep in delivery all over the fecking place, so my own speaking had taken a back seat. On top of that, this was a reframe of an older talk with new ideas, new angles, and some half-formed theories I was still road-testing.
So yeah. I was nervous. Proper nervous.
But I did the prep, worked on it, practised it loads of course.
Did my warm-up. As if I’d skip that bit!
Stayed hydrated like a smug, moist professional.
And then I did the thing.
Was it perfect? Absolutely not. I had to do a cheeky wee toe wiggle in the middle when I forgot where I was going. Lost my words. Lost my thread. Found it again. Carried on.
And when it finished… oh my god. What a rush.
On reflection, that feeling matters. A lot.
I know not everyone’s speaking environment is a “hello Wembley” moment. Some rooms are small. Some are high-stakes. Some are downright hostile. And everyone’s at a different point in their speaking journey with different stuff to overcome just to get up there in the first place.
But there’s something powerful in remembering how it feels after.
Maybe for you that feeling is just relief.
You did it. You survived. The world did not end. That’s a win.
Maybe it’s pride.
You got through something dead hard.
Maybe it’s learning.
You clock the bit you’d tweak next time and feel quietly excited to do it again, but better.
Or maybe, just maybe, it’s that feckin’ rockstar feeling for a few minutes when people come up to you afterwards. They ask questions. They tell you what it reminded them of. They say, “That was great,” and you actually let it land instead of brushing it off.
We spend so much time focusing on prep, structure, stories, rehearsal, warm-ups (all important, by the way). But I think we also need to plug in a mindset piece that says:
Remember how good it’ll feel at the end.
Because no matter what, you’ll either survive…
or you’ll feel like a cheeky wee rockstar for a couple of minutes.
And honestly? Both are worth showing up for. So tell me.
Is that a useful reframe… or am I still high on the adrenaline?
