Nervous before presenting? Welcome to the club.

What if I’m still scared?

I train people in presentation skills and high-stakes negotiation, and I am still nervous before presenting myself. Sometimes quite noticeably. Over the years, I have learned a great deal from experienced negotiation trainers about dealing with pressure — and I still find that some of the strongest nerves show up not in big corporate negotiations, but before presentations or talks. In private situations, such as negotiating a thousand euros with a builder, they can be stronger still. Perhaps because it is my own money. Perhaps because I do not do it privately very often.

What this has taught me is simple: nervousness has less to do with audience size or the numbers involved and far more to do with familiarity and exposure. The same emotional mechanisms appear in negotiations, but presentations tend to make them visible. You are literally standing there, being looked at.

And that is why this text is about presentations — and about what to do when preparation alone does not calm the nerves.

When we talk about presentations and public speaking, the advice is usually predictable. Prepare well, run through your content, know your audience, check the technology, and, if possible, place a few friendly faces in the room. All of this is sensible, and most of us already know it.

But there is a more uncomfortable question that often remains unanswered: What if I’m still scared?

Source: ChatGPT AI

Stage fright is not a flaw

Stage fright is not a weakness, nor is it a lack of professionalism. In most cases, it is simply a sign that something matters. I am certainly not an actor — please don’t make me do this. I was never particularly good at performing in front of others at primary school; music suited me far better. And yet, even professional actors experience stage fright. The difference is that they rehearse for weeks, perform the same piece repeatedly, and are paid to do so. For them, the first performance is the exception.

For most of us, the situation looks very different. We present on top of our actual jobs. We have limited time to prepare. We cannot rehearse endlessly. And still, we are expected to be clear, confident, and convincing. Under those circumstances, it is hardly surprising that the night before a presentation can be restless.

When sleep doesn’t come

Of course, good sleep hygiene helps, and alcohol rarely does. Falling asleep earlier only to wake up at three in the morning is not much of a victory. But even when you do everything “right”, sleep does not always come. I am not a doctor and cannot offer medical advice here, but I can offer a different way of thinking about what is happening.

Cry until you can cry no more

Years ago, I learned a technique from a sales and negotiation trainer that has stayed with me ever since. His advice was disarmingly simple: go into a room and cry. Cry until you cannot cry anymore.

It sounds odd, but it works. I used this approach once when I had to speak at a funeral. I practised the speech and cried. Then I practised again and cried. Sixteen times. The seventeenth time, I didn’t cry anymore, and I knew I was ready.

Sometimes emotions do not need to be suppressed or carefully managed. They simply need to be used up.

Source: ChatGPT AI

You are not the only one

It helps to remember that you are not alone. Many people — including very good speakers — feel exactly the same way. They just do not mention it on stage. As performance coaches often say, nerves mean you care, and caring is not the enemy of good performance.

And if you ever feel that your situation is uniquely stressful, a little perspective can help. It could be worse. You could be singing live at the Eurovision Song Contest, with millions watching and no second take.

Who do I want to be today?

One question that has helped me enormously over the years comes from a stress coach I once worked with:

How do I want to appear today? 

Not how do I survive this, but who do I want to be in the room?

Calm.

Clear.

Approachable.

Professional.

Shifting the focus from fear to intention can be surprisingly powerful.

Tell yourself you are good at this

Confidence, it turns out, can be practised in unconventional ways. I once heard a piece on BBC Radio about a school in Wales where one class practised power posing regularly in the weeks leading up to their final exams, while a parallel class did not. The result was that the power-posing class achieved, on average, half a grade better.

I do not replicate this exactly, but before stepping onto a stage, I do talk to myself — quietly, usually while walking or standing just outside the room. And no, it is not some abstract affirmation about success or excellence.

It is much simpler than that.

You are good at this.

You know your stuff.

You’ve done this before.

You are fine.

You look good in that suit, by the way.

Source: ChatGPT AI

It may sound ridiculous, but it works. Not because it magically removes fear, but because it shifts the inner dialogue from doubt to support. And sometimes, that is all you need.

Structure calms the nerves

Focus and structure are equally important for me. Even if my planning can be chaotic, I need clarity before a presentation or training session. I want to know my timing, how to get to the building, how long the journey takes, and what the room setup will be. If the session is online, I avoid doing other tasks beforehand.

Routine may feel boring, but it creates stability. The nerves do not disappear; I simply get better at handling them.

You know more than you think

It is worth reminding yourself that you usually know more than you think. If you know your topic, have thought about possible objections, are used to dealing with questions, and feel reasonably confident handling difficult audiences, you will be fine.

Even if you are new in the organisation or junior in the room, you know your project — your baby. Just make sure the slides are yours, or that you have made them your own. Explaining something familiar is always easier.

Rise to the challenge

When the stakes are high, I sometimes consciously rise to the challenge. This matters, so let me show how good I am at this. Not in an arrogant way, but with quiet confidence.

And finally, it is worth remembering that people do not just buy ideas, products, or strategies. They buy into you. Authenticity works. If you like people, greet them as they come in and welcome them to your talk. It is far better than standing at the front, silently panicking.

Familiar nerves are manageable nerves

Stage fright rarely disappears completely. And that is not a problem. In fact, I am not sure I would want it to. A complete absence of nerves would probably mean that I no longer care.

What does change, however, is the relationship with those nerves. Over time, they become familiar. You recognise them. You know how they feel in your body, how they affect your breathing, your voice, your thoughts. And because they are familiar, they stop being alarming.

Familiar nerves are no longer a threat. They are a signal. A reminder that this moment matters. I still feel them before almost every talk. The difference is that I no longer fight them. I let them sit there, do their thing, and get on with the job. Experience does not remove nervousness; it simply makes it less dramatic.

And that, in most situations, is more than enough.

Source: ChatGPT AI

Two simple exercises

Cry it out (emotional exhaustion)

Before an important presentation, practise your talk out loud and allow the emotion to be there. Do not suppress it. Repeat the process until the emotional intensity fades. You are not rehearsing performance here; you are rehearsing emotional release.

Choose your presence

Shortly before you begin, ask yourself how you want to appear and what people should experience when you speak. Choose one word — calm, clear, grounded, energetic — and hold that word as you enter the room.