Twenty years ago, my objective was to sing in public. I did not endeavor to sing well - just sing. I figured if I could conquer my fear of singing in front of people, I'd have "arrived." Mind you, I can't even sing in front of my mother, so that really would have been a big deal. I participated in various club functions, gave my initial 10 speeches which earned me a CTM designation, and went further with a speech from the advanced manual. I remember that I was so nervous before giving that speech, I had a drink before the meeting! And when I got through the speech, I got a rousing applause for a job which, if I do say so myself, was very well done. I was proud of myself, thrilled that I had been so accepted, delighted that I was able to deliver one of my pet ideologies clearly, and explain it to the satisfaction of the group.
Then I quit the club. It might have seemed that I was quitting while I was at the top -- a good place to quit, I suppose. But I gave myself other reasons. I lived 25 miles away, and making the 6:30 meeting through rush-hour traffic was brutal. But looking at it more deeply, it now occurs to me that I was afraid, afraid of not meeting up to the success of my last speech. And I was not willing to take up drinking as a routine before a speech!
Fast forward 10 years. Since joining the Brandon Toastmasters, I have been participating avidly, have given several speeches, and am now in line to receive my first advanced designation. I have been reading and studying as much as I can about the process of speaking and the business of professional speaking, and a common theme emerges: that fear of all kind is the constant companion of almost everyone.
So what am I afraid of?
At the top of my list is the fear that I will forget what I want to say, or not say it effectively. When giving a speech, especially in Toastmasters, speakers are constrained by various things, such as conforming to a specific allotted time, trying to avoid ah's and other speech bridges, having a strong opening, a good body and a powerful close to the speech, standing away from the lectern and displaying some appropriate animation - all while remembering to breathe! That's difficult to do. My next speech is about conversation, but it is clear that conversation is nothing like a Speech. Conversation is animated; it is messy; it jumps around from subject to subject; there are interruptions from the others participating in the conversation; no one is counting your ah's and there is no time limit. And most of all, no one is evaluating you when you are done!
But perhaps that is just an illusion. Because one fear that is undeniable is that I would be evaluated and judged negatively. Whether in giving a speech or in a conversation, other people's judgment is paramount. It is naive to pretend that I don't care, or shouldn't care, what others think. Of course I care. I don't live on an island; I am part of a social group. Acceptance into the group is vital to my emotional and psychological survival. So, the fear is that others may judge me negatively. They may think I'm arrogant, or proud, or standoffish. They may cast an unflattering label on me because I'm competent. Or they simply may not like me.
And yet, with all my competence and intelligence, I still lose my train of thought - often! This is terribly embarrassing to me, precisely because I am otherwise competent and present myself as having my act together. Clearly, in some respects, I do, but in other respects, I still have a lot to learn, not the least of which is how to think on my feet, how to be quick-witted and able to respond to any difficult situation. There are a few situations and people in my life that I find very intimidating, and am forever taking a step back from answering them as I really would like to, for fear of starting a fight. Did you read the word fear in the previous sentence? Yep. I'm afraid of speaking my mind for fear of starting a fight. This is a big one for me. I detest confrontations. So, I behave in a self-effacing manner, biting my tongue, frequently opting for a retiring course of action, rather than the more powerful - and lonely - assertiveness. And I justify it by telling myself that no man is an island. True enough, but...
On the other hand, I'm also afraid to capitulate, although I do it quite a bit. I'm afraid of my own power, and afraid of being seen incompetent. Incompetent? Didn't I just say that I am competent? Yes, I did, and I am, but not in all areas. While I have some political opinions, I am not very politically inclined, nor do I pretend to know enough about the workings of government to participate in an "intelligent" debate. I know next to nothing about the great American pastime of football or baseball. And my knowledge about the economy is on a par with most people. And I'm afraid that I'll be found out as not really as competent as at first it might have appeared. I'll be found out! This is a humbling exercise. In truth, no one knows everything about everything. And everyone has some talent or expertise that others do not. But that's just rationalization. I think people expect me to be perfect - or perhaps I expect it of myself - and when I do not measure up, I feel humiliated.
Is there a way around this? It's simply not possible to hit the books and learn all there is to know about everything. But there is an area I can work on: myself. Self acceptance of my strengths and weaknesses; my joys and regrets; my accomplishments and failings (and failures); my pet peeves and pet preferences; my ambitions; my foibles; myself. Who am I? A good place to start.
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