How can i handle social anxiety during public speaking?
the moment before the mic
My lungs always forget how to breathe right when the host calls my name. Last month I was backstage at a tech meetup clutching a clicker like it was a stress ball. Sweat, racing heart, the whole cliché package. Five minutes earlier I’d tried to talk myself out of speaking (“fire alarm? sudden power cut?”). Didn’t happen. I still had to walk out.
I survived - actually, I did fine - and on the subway home I wrote down every little thing that made the difference. No magic bullet, just a handful of habits that keep my social-anxious brain from flipping the panic switch. I’m tossing them here in case you need them too.
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prep that doesn’t feel like homework
1. rehearse the first 20 seconds only
That small chunk is where nerves spike the highest. Know it cold. Once you nail your opener, momentum carries you. Think of it like pushing a sled: the first shove is the hard part.
2. shrink the room ahead of time
If possible, arrive early and stand where you’ll speak. Say a few lines into the empty chairs. Your brain logs the space as “already visited,” so it feels less like an ambush later.
3. pick one safe face
Scan the audience for someone who looks chill - nodding, half-smiling, not on their phone. During practice, picture talking to that one person. On stage, keep bouncing your gaze back to them. It tricks you into thinking it’s a one-on-one chat.
4. caffeine math
Half a coffee = alert. Two coffees = shaky possum. Enough said.
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body hacks when panic shows up anyway
Social anxiety is basically your body hitting the gas when no one asked it to. Instead of yelling at the dashboard, tap the brakes:
• box breath on deck: 4-4-4-4. Inhale four counts, hold four, exhale four, hold four. Do three rounds backstage. It lowers pulse fast without looking weird.
• plant your feet like roots: knees soft, weight balanced. Wobble comes from locked knees and shallow breathing. Unclench.
• pockets are lava: keep hands visible. Gesture big enough that your shoulders get involved. It vents adrenaline.
• call it out (quietly): A whispered “yup, that’s adrenaline, thanks body” labels the feeling and steals its edge. Sounds corny - still works.
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mental reframes that don’t insult your intelligence
You’ve heard “imagine everyone naked.” Hard pass. These actually help:
• audience = allies, not judges
People showed up hoping to learn or be entertained. They want you to succeed because watching a train wreck is awkward for them too.
• perfection is invisible
Listeners can’t see the script in your head. If you skip a stat or flip two slides, they’ll never know unless you announce it.
• nerves ≠ lack of skill
Olympians vomit before races. Anxiety and competence are roommates, not enemies. Let them co-exist.
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in-the-moment rescue moves
Stuff goes sideways mid-talk? Steal one of these:
1. the long sip
Pause to drink water. Three benefits: throat reset, gives you five seconds to regroup, looks perfectly normal.
2. the honest aside
“Let me gather my thoughts for a sec.” Audiences appreciate candor more than flawless delivery. Credibility goes up, anxiety deflates.
3. the anchor question
Toss a quick question to the crowd - “Who here has tried X?” Hands go up, you breathe, energy resets.
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the cool-down ritual
When the mic is off, don’t sprint for the exit. Let your nervous system land:
• stay for one genuine convo. Chat with a stranger who liked a point you made. Positive feedback cements the win.
• short walk, headphones optional. Movement burns leftover adrenaline.
• jot a tiny win + one tweak. “Spoke slower, good” / “slide 4 too crowded.” Two sentences max. Bank the lesson, drop the rumination.
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wrap-up
Public speaking anxiety isn’t proof you’re broken; it’s proof you care. Every “scary” talk is a rep at the mental gym, and reps stack fast. Next time your name gets called and your lungs boycott, remember: you’ve got a first line memorized, a safe face waiting, and a breathing pattern in your pocket. Step up, plant those feet, say the words. The room will not eat you. In fact, it might even clap.
Written by Tom Brainbun