I’m a butterfly in certain situations and a caterpillar in most.
When I’m doing research, talking to people one-on-one, conducting in-depth interviews, or participating in focused group discussions, I spread my wings and fly.
But anything to do with a stage? That’s when I want to hide in my cocoon.
You know, it might’ve all started when I bumped my head in the crib. Just kidding!
So when did it all start?
Picture baby me, all excited and prepared for school admission interviews. And then? I totally blanked out! Yep, my brain decided to abandon me right when I needed it the most.
Fast forward to school years, and there I was, participating in debates and speeches, despite my brain’s best efforts to turn into a popsicle. Why? I wanted to be like my dad, a fine orator. But turns out, eloquence isn’t hereditary!
Cut to the age of adolescence marked by unfounded awkwardness and the arrival of the terrible twins—guilt and shame. My shadows grew darker, and my nervousness reached terminal levels. It was like my brain decided to throw a never-ending party of panic, and I was the unwilling guest of honor.
Thankfully, with years of practice, therapy, and some seriously life-saving breathwork and grounding techniques, I managed to kick those nervous jitters to the curb. Well, mostly…
Just when I thought I had it all under control, presentations and meetings decided to bring back the jitters! Yes, I still sometimes feel like a test subject on a caffeine high when I have to speak at length in front of a crowd.
But hey, at least now I do find a way to laugh about it…mostly and don’t give myself a difficult time about it. Practicing self love all too well in here!
I also remind myself often that it’s okay to be nervous; it adds a sprinkle of excitement to life—or so I keep telling myself!
Fingers in symphony 