
For many, standing up to speak in front of others can feel more intimidating than the presentation itself. Whether it’s delivering a class presentation, participating in a seminar discussion, answering questions during an examination, or simply speaking up in class, the experience can trigger intense anxiety.
You’re not alone. Research consistently shows that public speaking anxiety affects approximately 75% of people, making it one of the most common specific fears. Despite its prevalence, many students interpret their nervousness as a sign that they are unprepared, incapable, or somehow less confident than their peers. Anxiety before speaking is a normal human response to being evaluated by others.
Unfortunately, many students interpret physical symptoms—such as a racing heart, trembling hands, or feelings of panic—as evidence that they are unprepared or incapable. Yet research suggests that anxious speakers frequently judge their own performance more harshly than others do (Gallego et al., 2022). In other words, the way you feel during a presentation is often a poor indicator of how well you are actually performing.
The good news is that confidence is not the absence of anxiety. Confidence is learning how to move forward even when your heart is racing. It’s discovering that you can feel nervous and still speak clearly, contribute meaningfully, and share your ideas with others. In fact, some of the most effective speakers still experience nerves—they’ve learned how to work with them rather than fight against them.
If public speaking became a little less frightening, what would you hope to experience more often? What version of yourself would begin to show up? Would you speak with a little more confidence, share your ideas more freely, or trust yourself even when you feel nervous?
Imagine yourself in a classroom, presentation, or discussion. What would you be doing differently? What would make you think, “This is more like the person I want to be”?
You do not need to become fearless to move toward that version of yourself. Sometimes growth begins with a single moment of courage. Your voice matters, and the person you hope to become may be closer than you think.
Why Public Speaking Triggers Such Intense Anxiety?
If you’ve ever felt your heart race, your hands shake, or your mind go blank before speaking in front of a class, there is a reason for it—and it has far more to do with being human than with being incapable.
Our brains are wired to pay close attention to how we are seen by others. For thousands of years, belonging to a group was essential for survival. Being rejected, criticized, or excluded could have serious consequences. Although the world has changed, our brains still respond strongly when we feel evaluated by others.
When you stand up to give a presentation, your brain may interpret the situation as a social threat. In that moment, it can feel as though everyone is judging your intelligence, competence, or worth. Your body responds by preparing to protect you—your heart beats faster, your breathing changes, and your mind becomes highly alert. While these reactions can feel uncomfortable, they are signs that your brain is trying to help you navigate something it believes is important.
If you experience these feelings, you are not alone, and you are certainly not the only one in the room who feels this way. Often, anxiety is not evidence that you are incapable—it is evidence that what you are doing matters to you.
The Self-Focus Problem
One of the most challenging parts of public speaking is that anxiety often pulls your attention away from your message and back onto yourself. Instead of focusing on what you want to share, you may find yourself wondering, “How am I coming across?” “Is my voice shaking?” “Can they tell I’m nervous?”
If this happens to you, it does not mean you are doing anything wrong. In fact, it is a very common response when something feels important. Your mind is trying to protect you by scanning for signs of danger or judgment. The difficulty is that when part of your attention is busy monitoring yourself, there is less attention available for connecting with your audience and communicating your ideas.This cognitive multitasking degrades the quality of the presentation AND amplifies anxiety.
Many students discover that the more they focus on how they are being perceived, the harder speaking becomes. Yet when they begin shifting their attention toward the message they want to share, the people they want to help, or the version of themselves they hope to become, something often changes. They become more present, more engaged, and more like the person they want to be.
What might be different if you spent less energy evaluating yourself and more energy sharing what matters to you? What would others notice about you? What would you notice about yourself?
When anxiety shows up, it often offers what seems like a simple solution: avoid the situation. Skip the presentation. Stay quiet in class. Drop the course that requires public speaking. In the short term, avoidance can bring a sense of relief. The anxiety fades, and for a moment, you feel safer.
Your mind learns from what you do. Each time you avoid a speaking opportunity, your brain receives the message: “This situation must be dangerous because I escaped it.” As a result, the fear often grows stronger, and the next presentation can feel even more intimidating than the last.
If you have found yourself avoiding speaking situations, I hope you will meet yourself with compassion rather than criticism. Avoidance is not a sign of weakness; it is a natural human response to discomfort. Your mind is trying to protect you from pain, embarrassment, or failure. The challenge is that what protects us in the short term can sometimes limit us in the long term.
Exposure is not about forcing yourself to be fearless. It is about taking small, meaningful steps toward the life you want, even when fear comes along for the journey.
Imagine the version of yourself you hope to become—the student who shares ideas, contributes in discussions, or presents with greater confidence. What small step might that person take today? Perhaps it is asking a question in class, speaking up once in a discussion, or practicing a presentation in front of a trusted friend. These moments may seem small, but they teach your brain something new: “I can feel anxious and still do what matters.”
ACT for Public Speaking Anxiety
There is a moment in public speaking where everything can quietly change—not when the nerves disappear, but when something more important comes into focus.
Instead of asking, “How do I make sure I don’t mess up?” you begin to ask, “What am I here to share?” Instead of measuring yourself through the eyes of others, your attention gently turns toward the message, the idea, or the perspective that matters enough for you to speak in the first place.
When that shift happens, the experience of speaking often changes shape. It becomes less about being examined and more about contributing something that has value. Less about proving yourself, and more about offering something that might help, inform, or connect with others in the room.
This does not remove the nerves—but it changes your relationship with them. They become something you can carry while still focusing on what matters most. And in many cases, that shift is what allows people to speak with more clarity, presence, and authenticity than they thought possible.
If you return to your best hope, you might ask yourself: “What matters enough here that I am willing to feel a little nervous for it?” The answer to that question often points you in the direction of the kind of speaker you are already becoming.
‘Everyone will see I am nervous’ — defuse: ‘I am having the thought that everyone will see I am nervous.’ This thought is rarely accurate — research shows observers significantly underestimate speakers’ internal anxiety. And even if some nervousness is visible, it does not determine the presentation’s value.
‘When have you spoken well despite nerves? What were you doing differently?’ ‘When was a recent
presentation moment that went better than expected?’ These exceptions contain the student’s personal speaking strengths.
When your mind is focused on “How am I doing? How am I coming across?” it naturally becomes more self-aware and more anxious. You start monitoring yourself instead of expressing yourself.
But when attention gently moves toward “Is my audience understanding what I want them to understand?” something important changes. The focus moves outward—toward connection, clarity, and communication.
The goal is not to perform perfectly, but to stay with the message you care about sharing.
The Physiological Reappraisal
Alison Wood Brooks at Harvard found that saying ‘I am excited’ before a presentation — rather than trying to calm down — produced significantly better performance. The physiological arousal of anxiety is identical to the arousal of excitement. The reappraisal changes the interpretation — and the performance.
Many students try to calm themselves before speaking, hoping the nerves will disappear first. But there is another way of making sense of what you feel.
Research by Alison Wood Brooks at Harvard found that when people told themselves “I am excited” before a performance, they performed better than when they tried to force themselves to feel calm. What is interesting is that the body response of anxiety and excitement is very similar—both involve energy, alertness, and activation.
The difference is not in the body, but in the meaning, we give it. When that energy is interpreted as fear, it can feel overwhelming. When it is interpreted as excitement, it can feel more like readiness.
So rather than waiting to feel calm, it can be helpful to allow the energy to be there—and gently shift how you understand it: not as a sign that something is wrong, but as a sign that something matters.
As you read this, you might notice a familiar belief: “If I prepare enough, I won’t feel anxious.” It makes sense. Your mind is trying to create safety through control and certainty.
And yet, you may also recognize the experience of preparing well and still feeling nervous. The heartbeat still rises. The thoughts still arrive. The body still responds as if something important is about to happen.
Instead of seeing this as a problem, it can help to notice what is happening in the moment. You have prepared. The knowledge is there. The structure is there. And alongside that preparation, there is also activation in your body.
Both can exist at the same time.
And perhaps, just for a moment, you can allow the idea that your body does not need to be perfectly calm for you to be ready. Readiness is already built through preparation. The nervous energy is simply part of the system, showing you that these matters.
So rather than trying to push the feeling away, you can let both experiences sit side by side: prepared… and still a little nervous. And you can still speak. You can still express what matters. You can still be present, even here.
Brief Exposure Practice
At first, speaking might feel easier in lower-pressure situations—perhaps talking through your ideas to yourself, then to a mirror, then to one trusted person who feels safe. Over time, it may become possible to share in a small group, and eventually in front of a larger audience.
Each step matters, not because it removes all discomfort, but because it teaches your mind something new: “I can do this while feeling nervous.” And with each experience, the unfamiliar becomes a little more familiar.
There is no need to rush this process. It is not about forcing confidence—it is about gently building trust in your ability to stay present while speaking, one small step at a time.
There are a few simple practices that can change how speaking feels—not by removing nerves, but by helping you relate to them differently and support yourself more effectively.
Before a presentation, it can help to pause and ask yourself: “What is meaningful about what I am sharing? What do I want my audience to understand or take from this?” This kind of reflection quietly shifts your attention away from how you are being seen and back toward what you are offering.
In the moments just before speaking, you might also notice the body activating—faster heartbeat, more energy, heightened awareness. Instead of interpreting this as a problem, you can gently remind yourself: “I am excited. My body is ready. I have something worth sharing.” Even if it does not feel completely true at first, this way of framing the experience can help your mind work with your body rather than against it.
When it is time to begin, having a well-prepared opening sentence can make a real difference. The first few seconds are often the hardest, and once you begin speaking, momentum naturally builds. Knowing exactly how you will start can provide a sense of steadiness right when it matters most.
Afterwards, it can be powerful to reflect in a kind way: What went better than I expected? What did I manage well while feeling nervous? What would I want to carry forward next time? Over time, this helps your mind notice evidence of capability, not just moments of discomfort.
Taken together, these small practices do not aim to remove anxiety—but to help you speak with more steadiness, clarity, and self-trust, even when nerves are present.
AYGUL TATLICI Registered Psychotherapist Qualifying , MA, FCSFP L3
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Coaching is not psychotherapy; coaching does not diagnose or treat mental health conditions. Coaching focuses on personal development, goal achievement, and mindset shifts. It is not a substitute for a serious mental health treatment, diagnosis, or psychotherapy.