This is the final post in a five-part series on what vulnerability looks like in my everyday life. Sometimes, I’m being vulnerable; other times, I’m reacting to someone else’s vulnerability. Both have required a lot of courage.
I hope they resonate with you and inspire you to live more vulnerably, too!
“I feel like your speech was perfect, but I still don’t feel connected to you when you’re up there.”
I’m confused. How could perfectly-timed pauses, confidence, and emphasis on all the right words lead to disconnection? “Can you explain more?”
My Toastmasters evaluator tried again, “You’re like…an opera singer, buuuut I feel like you’d connect better with the audience if you were more like, I dunno…more like Cardi B or Katy Perry.”
“I guess…” He sighed and then pushed his hair back with one hand, as if searching for the right words, “Be more casual?”
Ok, ok. I get it now. It’s feedback I’ve heard before: show your personality, be yourself. I’m so polished and perfect that my speech becomes less of a two-way conversation and more of a one-way, but A+, performance.
Oh, believe me, I want to let go and react to the audience in authentic ways, but most of the time, I don’t trust myself enough to do it. I’m scared of blurting out something nonsensical and stupid.
Fuckity, fuckity fuck, I’m competing in a speech contest in two days. What am I gonna do?