Finding My Voice: What I Thought About as a New Public Speaker

When I decided to step into the world of public speaking, I thought the hardest part would be standing on stage. I imagined the bright lights, the nervous tremble in my hands, the familiar flutter in my stomach. People staring at me. But what surprised me wasn’t the fear of speaking—it was the question:

“What do I even talk about?”

It felt like being handed a blank page the size of a football field. I wanted to say something meaningful, something useful, something that sounded like me. But figuring out what that actually was? That was the first real challenge.

Choosing What to Speak About

In the beginning, I believed I needed to choose “big” topics—impressive ones that would command attention. Leadership. Inspiration. Productivity. Something polished.

But I quickly learned the truth:
People don’t connect to topics—they connect to stories.

And those stories don’t need to be grand. They just need to be honest.

So I asked myself three simple questions:

1. What experience has shaped me recently?
2. What lesson am I learning—not perfectly, but truthfully?
3. What would I want to hear from someone like me?

Suddenly, ideas started appearing everywhere. The time I moved to a new country. The fear of trying something new Reshaping my identity of the downtrodden girl who experienced trauma. The moment I realized vulnerability was strength. The messy, very human moments that make us who we are.

I learned that inspiration isn’t found in trying to sound wise—it’s found in being willing to be real.

Understanding the Audience

Once I had topics in mind, the next question became:
Who am I speaking to?

Audiences aren’t just listeners—they’re participants. They want to recognize themselves in your message. They want to know you see them.

As a new speaker, I started paying attention to:

• Age and life stage: What challenges might they be facing right now?
• Environment: Is this a formal setting, or a supportive club meeting where everyone is learning?
• Emotion: Are they nervous? Curious? Eager? Distracted?
• Expectations: Do they want to be inspired, entertained, informed, or all three?

Understanding an audience isn’t guessing—it’s observing. Listening to their laughter. Watching their posture. Noticing the moments when they lean in.

I began treating each speech like a conversation rather than a performance. When I focus on them—not on myself—speaking becomes easier. More natural. More meaningful.

Figuring Out What Skills I Need to Improve

If being new at something teaches you anything, it’s humility. Every time I speak, I learn something about the craft—and about myself.

Here are the skills I’m currently working on:

1. Structure

Not every good thought makes a good speech. I’m learning how to build a clear beginning, middle, and end.
A speech should feel like a journey, not a maze.

2. Vocal Variety

My natural instinct is to speak using humor. I’m learning to use pauses, energy, highs and lows, softness and strength to bring the message alive.

3. Presence

Standing still. Making eye contact. Owning the space. I’m discovering that presence isn’t about confidence—it’s about connection.

4. Timing

Five minutes is shorter than it sounds. I’m learning to choose words with intention and avoid trying to say everything at once.

5. Letting Go of Perfection

This one matters the most. Every speaker I admire wasn’t perfect when they started. They practiced. They improved. They took risks.
I’m reminding myself that mistakes are not failures—they’re feedback.

The Journey Ahead

Becoming a public speaker isn’t just about learning how to speak.
It’s about learning how to express yourself.
How to share your perspective.
How to step into a room and offer something of value—something only you can offer.

Every speech I write teaches me something new.
Every audience I face opens another window.
Every mistake I make sharpens another skill.

And the best part?
I’m not trying to be the best speaker in the room.
I’m simply trying to be better than the speaker I was last week.

That, to me, feels like a journey worth taking.