This Thursday, I am giving a speech for a local fundraising dinner.
I’ve given lots of speeches like this one, in fact. In Wisconsin. New York. Boston. Even on Capitol Hill.
Different topics, different approaches, and vastly different audiences.
And do you want to know the thing that all of my speeches have in common?
I have dreaded each one of them with every fiber of my being.
I am terrified with each and every speech I give because of one thing:
Good ol’ fashioned self-doubt.
Why would anyone want to hear what I have to say? Who am I to pretend I know anything anyways? I can’t do this!
I have spent many, many years of my life being afraid. Afraid at work. Afraid of writing. Afraid that I’m a bad mother. Afraid of what is to come after this life.
Afraid of not being good enough. Thin enough. Pretty enough.
“If only I had nice hair,” or “If only I was just 10 pounds skinnier,” or “If only I was more interesting,”
Then, only then,
Could I find my confidence.
But that’s not how it works, is it?
It won’t take perfectly voluminous hair or a thinner body to make me confident.
I know what it really takes.
And that’s why this Thursday,
I will stand with my head held high.
I may not be the prettiest.
Or the thinnest.
Or the most out-spoken.
And I’m definitely not the wittiest speaker.
But I have to believe that my voice matters.