How I Shared My Story On Stage (in spite of my fear)
I remember the nauseous feeling I had as I paced backstage before giving my TEDx talk Your Story Can Change the World in 2012.
My script hadn’t been finalized until that morning and I didn’t have it fully memorized. Backstage, I repeated the order of words over and over, creating mental maps of how each idea led to the next. My anxiety was only heightened after sitting in the audience and hearing men with PhDs give highly researched talks. I felt worried my talk would feel too different, unprofessional and emotional. Basically, patriarchy was alive in my psyche.
I took as many deep breaths as I could and told myself that communicating my message mattered more than delivering some perfect script.
When I got on stage, I remember the brightness of the lights and the sea of people in front of me.
My abusive boyfriend who had told me that it was selfish of me to do this, stared blankly back at me.
I began.
There were moments of shakiness, and I randomly added a mispronounced reference to one of the male speakers’ talks, but once I got into my flow, I gave myself fully to the unfurling narrative journey.
I spoke of my family. Of Palestine. How dominant narratives sustain oppressive systems. I spoke about breaking lineages of harm and shame that we’ve inherited. Of how our stories have power. Of how we can create new narratives and new systems, together.
At the heart of the story, I opened my arms wide and shared about a woman who I had met, Manal Tamimi, a Palestinian freedom fighter and mother, whose vision for her people’s liberation compels her to open fully to as much joy as possible, even while grieving her family members that have been murdered by the Israeli Occupation Forces.
When I stepped off the stage, I felt such incredible relief, yes. But I also felt like I had crossed such an important threshold. I had given my whole soul to sharing that story. I had laid it out on the line. My visions. My experiences. The stories that had been entrusted to me to share. My deep longings for the world.
What would become of that from the audience, I didn’t know. But I knew I was so proud of myself. For facing the nausea and showing up anyway. For not letting the patriarchal voices in my head stop me from using my voice. For offering the wisdom I’ve harvested and sharing it as an offering.
When I look back at this experience, it’s wild to see how the story I would tell today is different than what I shared on that day.
There were whole dimensions of my story that I could have shared, but I hadn’t reckoned with them yet. There were seeds that hadn’t yet sprouted, ingredients brewing in my cauldron, not yet ready to be tasted. My story continues to evolve. The seasons of my life bring different sprouts and blooms.
But I still believe what I said that day, that sharing our stories breaks shame, builds power, and creates new possibilities for our collective liberation.
I’m sharing this because I hope you know that your stories matter. You don’t need to have perfectly crafted and memorized scripts. You can start where you are, by connecting to your heart and letting your experiences reveal their messages. Sharing what you care about is an exercise in connection, not perfection.
There is magic when you open your arms to your dreams for collective liberation and share that longing with other humans.
Your stories will change, but sharing them is an act of creation for the world you want.
Click on the image above to watch the whole talk.
If you’re interested in sharing your stories, here are some resources. If you would like to collaborate with me on filming your stories, check out these offerings or reach out to life[at]awakestorytelling.com.
