I pressed “submit” on my TEDx application with absolutely no expectations. I didn’t think I’d be considered, and I wasn’t even sure if I’d hear back if I wasn't selected.
When I look back today, I chuckle at my naivety. I had NO idea what I had just committed to.
Little did I know that the journey ahead would be one of my greatest challenges thus far, and also one of my greatest accomplishments (besides raising my three boys!).
My decision to apply for a TEDx talk in the first place was fueled by wanting to prove something to myself. A few years ago, I put it out into the universe that giving a TED Talk would be a bucket list item. And there’s nothing I hate more than letting myself down. While I had faith that I would have the opportunity ONE DAY, I never imagined it would happen so soon.
To say I was shocked to get the acceptance email is an understatement. Yet, the shock that day was minor compared to the intensity that lay ahead in the next five months. This experience helped me grow and learn in ways I never imagined, and I’m excited to share some eye-opening but rewarding lessons that I took away from the experience.
My very first meeting with the TEDx Team and my fellow speakers was just a few weeks after I learned I was accepted. The program organizers stressed the importance of the timeline and sticking to process deadlines, and we immediately hit the ground running. Speakers were paired up with volunteer coaches, and I quickly learned that not a minute would go to waste in the next five months.
I had watched many TED Talks and imagined it took a lot of preparation, but I never could have imagined the amount of effort and energy it took to pull it all together when you are literally starting with a BLANK document.
Writing my talk was the first step… although, it felt like steps 1 through 1000 to me. The concept of sharing my message, validating my experience, and offering tips and actionable ideas in just TWELVE MINUTES seemed daunting. And it was! However, I was extremely dedicated to telling my story as best as I possibly could, and I was willing to put in the time to find the right words that felt authentic to me.
With that in mind, I also quickly learned that time management would be the hardest part for me. It was hard enough for me to balance running a business and raising a family, and now I had to fit writing a TEDx Talk into my already packed schedule. But I knew I’d figure it out… and I did. Spoiler alert: It required a lot of multitasking and a few late nights.
Between carpools, Zoom meetings, and a particularly busy quarter of travel, I pulled the bones of my talk together. I then spent most of my morning walks fine-tuning the stories and transitions. Once I had the words down (for the most part), I faced the next intimidating task of memorizing the speech. That’s right–I was not going to have a teleprompter to rely on. TEDx requires speakers to fully memorize their talk, so I knew that somehow, that speech would become etched in my brain.
As a multitasker, it was my nature to find a way to be efficient with the process. I knew that I was a visual and audible learner, so I started recording my speech and listening to it whenever I found a window of opportunity. Whether I was folding laundry, taking my dog for a walk, driving my kids to school, or shopping at Trader Joe’s (#iykyk), I would listen to my words and make mental notes to help me tighten those sections where I’d fumble. Even though it seemed like an impossible feat at the start, the repetition and consistency helped me get comfortable with the words, and they started to stick.
Now that I had my script finalized AND memorized, it was time to think about the delivery and execution, which ended up being the hardest part for me. The framework for delivering a TED talk is about delivering memorized content as if you’re saying each word for the first time. To me, this felt like a big oxymoron, and finding my authentic voice seemed even harder after I memorized the words. How could I deliver a speech as naturally as I could when, in reality, I had rehearsed every single word repeatedly? In my mind, all I could do was control what I could control. And the only real thing I could control was how (and how often) I practiced.
In the last week of prep, I started the most cringeworthy task of recording myself on camera and rewatching the footage to catch any speech no-nos like swaying or lack of eye contact. The preparation consumed me much like marathon training does. I stuck to a proven schedule and held myself accountable to the point that it felt like some days, all I did was eat, sleep, and breathe the words from my talk.
And of course, I tortured my husband and teenage sons by asking for volunteer listeners whenever I could. Needless to say, they could all probably have delivered 70% of my script without even realizing it!
“Your speech will change drastically. These words will look very different by the end.”
This was one of the first things my coach told me when I presented my first draft. You could have knocked me over with a feather. What could that mean? This was my story, and I couldn’t imagine telling it any differently. The first draft already took everything I could give.
She was right, of course. As the drafts piled up, the heart of my story remained exactly the same, but the words changed a lot. One major learning was adjusting my writing to be as concise as possible–I had a big audience to captivate, and it didn’t take much to lose their attention. This is when I understood the idea of “kill your darlings,” which basically meant to cut elements that don’t serve the overall story… even if you love them.
About a month out, we were instructed to turn in our “final” scripts, and I chuckle thinking back that I really believed I was submitting my final version. The reality was that I was still changing words up until the day before. Now, to be clear, I was not supposed to change anything after submitting that supposed “final” version. But, I found that I simply couldn’t help tinkering and perfecting it. Even at the eleventh hour, I was adjusting the transitions and semantics to ensure I delivered the most genuine and authentic talk that was true to me.
Early on, someone told me, “Just think of one person that needs to hear this and just write it for that person.” I found the advice helpful as it helped me focus on a very tangible goal. Of course, I hoped my words would resonate with a lot of people. But even if I could make a difference for one person, how could that not feel like a job well done? Little did I know, I would see that come to fruition immediately after my speech.
When it was finally my time to take the stage, I took a deep breath and said a little prayer before walking onto the red circle carpet under the bright lights. Over the next 12 minutes, as I looked into the eyes of audience members, I shared my message from my heart and, maybe more importantly, I revealed who I am. From what I remember, it went well; although I’ll be the first to admit that I may have blacked out for most of it.
After delivering my final line, I took a pause on stage to savor the moment and take it all in before exiting with a smile. For the next hour, I stayed backstage to watch my fellow speakers through their experience. I was excited for them, yet I felt a bit uneasy without much memory of my performance or the audience response. Little did I know that my impact would be validated shortly after the show ended.
Once the show wrapped and the theater lights turned on, I went out to the auditorium lobby to greet my friends and family. As I scanned the rows for familiar faces, a woman approached me and asked if she could have a moment with me. As I focused my attention on her, I learned that my story had not only resonated with her, but it had influenced her to take action with her own situation. She decided right then and there to schedule a meeting with her boss on Monday to talk about her goals and small things that could improve their company culture. I was so touched to hear the impact it made on her and grateful for the immediate feedback that validated my story. I could walk away that day knowing that I helped at least one person… and that was my goal all along.
If you’re eager to see the final product of my five months of work, check out my TEDx Talk, Business IS Personal - Prioritizing People Pays Off.
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