I’ve got a 9-year-old who absolutely hates an irritating platitude when things go wrong.
I, on the other hand, fecking love ‘em!
Last year, I was rolling out:
“You win or you learn, you never lose” anytime he didn’t quite get where he wanted.
Was proud of that. Wise. Grounded. Very parent-y.
It does not, however, land with the intended “wow mum, I feel inspired to try again you’re so wise oh oracle of the household” energy. Sad face.
Instead, I get an eye roll so strong it nearly knocks him over.
So this year, I’m switching it up.
The new irritating platitude of choice is:
“You don’t have to be the best, to try your best.”
He’s going to hate it. I already know.
But I love it. Heard it on a podcast somewhere and thought that’ll do.
Because it gets right to the heart of something that stops a lot of people speaking
Perfectionism and the fear of speaking
That familiar internal script goes something like:
“I’ve never been good at speaking.”
“So and so in the office does the talking.”
“I’ll sound stupid.”
“I hate my voice/accent/how I sound.”
By the time you’re an adult you’re terrified of not being the best. Of messing up or, god forbid, not sounding “professional” or “authoritative” or whatever other buzz word you’ve heard on insta this week that makes you a good speaker. Here comes my eye roll.
Perfectionism sneaks in like that grey hair you’ve no noticed until now.
And speaking is where it really digs its heels in.
People often tell me they’re “not confident speakers”.
Now let’s be honest, what they usually mean is that they don’t sound perfect when they talk.
They hear pauses. Breath. Wobbles. Errors.
They hear themselves being human. Arrest them immediately please, officer, for crimes against speaking.
Your voice is not meant to be perfect
Here’s the glorious thing.
Using your voice is never perfect. And it shouldn’t be.
You’re not a bot. A polished avatar delivering flawless lines.
You’re a lumpy, bumpy human, thinking and feeling in real time.
That means sometimes your voice cracks a bit.
Or you lose your place. Or the sentence comes out wonky.
Good.
That’s communication. You didn’t fail. You showed up. 10/10
Somewhere along the way, we picked up the idea that good speaking means flawless delivery. Smooth. Controlled. Impressive.
But the voices that really fecking land aren’t perfect. Cos it doesn’t exist.
They’re connected. They’re full of the sound of thinking. Someone meaning what they’re saying.
Caring about the person listening.
Sounding human is the skill
Especially now, when the robots are coming. AI-generated voices are getting smoother and more convincing by the day.
What cuts through and gets heard isn’t polish.
It’s humanity. Breath. Ums. Ahs.
Your unique rhythm.
Your working curiosity.
That’s the bit no system can replicate.
So here’s the relief, if you need it.
You will never perfect your voice. It’s not possible.
And honestly? Thank feck for that.
All you can do is try your best. And if you can reflect and say you did that?
You’re home in a boat (as my dad would say).
So get those lips flapping. Let it be a wee bit messy.
Let it be properly human.
That’s where the good stuff lives.
