A week ago I was on the TEDxManitouSprings stage, and that has had me reflecting on how long I’ve been sharing stories. This photo shows me that as early as 1985 (!!!), I’ve been standing up in front of people and sharing.
It almost always scares me to death. I remember one of those speeches from back then being about a family member, and I remember my teacher having a teary moment, and I remember seeing how words can really move people. I have witnessed firsthand how our stories can change lives, even when shared one on one, not from the stage or in front of your classmates. It’s why I do the thing that scares me to death.
True vulnerability moment: When I stepped off the stage last week, my first thought was, “Get me out of here. I’m done. That was a disaster. I don’t want to do this anymore.”
I’m a huge believer in giving people the chance to have a second response to really hard things, and over the last week, I was reminded to give myself and my experience a second response. I was reminded of this image I took of my awards from speaking all the way back when I was a child. And I was reminded that I do hard and scary things for a reason — not because I need to be celebrated (but I’m human and do still need to be seen and heard, and that’s OK!), but because someone needs to hear what I have to say.
I was 10 years old in 1985. That little girl knew what’s up. I think I might finally be hearing her.
