Faking confidence (ii): An introvert’s story

Disclaimer: The advice presented in this article represents a reflection upon my own experience of giving presentations as someone who struggles with anxiety; I am not a medical professional. Having an anxiety disorder can be debilitating, but anxiety is a real medical condition that should be taken seriously. If your anxiety is severe and you want to address it, I strongly recommend that you seek the help of a properly trained mental health professional. Techniques like CBT (cognitive behavioural therapy) can help, but should be administered only under appropriate professional supervision. Do not be ashamed of asking for this kind of help if you need it. It takes a lot of bravery to admit to needing help, especially if everyone around you seems fine.

I remember well the first time I had to give a proper presentation in front of a room full of actual people. As soon as I got up in front of the audience, my face went beetroot red, my hands started shaking uncontrollably, and my mouth went so dry that my voice kept cracking.

The hundred pairs of staring eyes made me wish I could run away, but my legs betrayed me with their trembling at that point as well. I had to stand next to the lectern and grip it – just to have something to hold me upright – as I fiddled with starting up my slides. Just to make it even worse, all the talks that days were also being filmed. The camera was a hulking, shadowy mass at the back of the room, looming ominously in my peripheral vision every time I turned my head.

Somehow, I managed to get through what felt like the longest ten minutes of my life.

Many people congratulated me afterwards, telling me I gave one of the best talks of the day. Apparently, despite being on the verge of an anxiety attack, I was somehow able to project an air of confidence I didn’t feel. Having found the footage of that talk again recently, I have to grudgingly admit that I didn’t do as badly as my brain convinced me I did at the time. It’s definitely interesting, though, after writing these guides, to see how far I have come from those early days of panic and terror.

Years later, I’ve had a lot of practice at giving talks, and although I still can’t say I enjoy public speaking the anxiety has at least become manageable. People often express to me that they wish they had my confidence. Each talk I give, I get one step closer to actually feeling confident, not just “faking it ’til I make it” – I still hope that one day I’ll get there. There are some simple body language and masking techniques that I have adopted to direct and deflect the attention of the audience. The nerves may never fully go away, but I have learned to use them to my advantage.

So, how do I make it through a talk these days?

Trying not to croak

First of all, since my mouth still has a tendency to dry out when I’m nervous, I keep a small bottle of water with me and have it sitting by me on the lectern. Even if I don’t have a chance to drink from it once I warm up and really start talking, I always take a large sip before my talk starts (usually when the session chair is introducing me) to counter the dryness. It’s so common to see people with a bottle of water that no one even notices.

Shaken, not stirred

I’ve never been able to figure out a strategy to stop my hands from shaking, but from watching others give talks, I noticed that shaking hands are very obvious when the speaker uses a laser pointer. The dot jerks around the screen like you’re shining it for a cat to play with. So, I disguise my shaky hands problem by not using a laser pointer at all, even to click to the next slide with. Instead, I keep my hands occupied with a heavier weight that makes the shaking far less obvious.

At a conference, I’ll use a telescopic baton-style pointer, and at departmental talks I use whatever is to hand (usually a metre ruler). Using a stick pointer instead of a laser makes it much easier to direct the attention of the audience as well, because it’s like an extension of your arm; they don’t have to look at you first to see where to look for the laser dot. The stick also gives you the air of an orchestra conductor as you swish it from one part of the slide to another, and you can hold it in both hands when you’re not pointing with it which reduces your ability to fidget.

Sit still

Pacing around a stage can make you look nervous, and also makes the audience look at you more because the human eye is drawn to movement. If you would rather the audience focus their attention on the slides than on you, try to keep as still as possible. Obviously I don’t stand perfectly still, since some hand movements and other gestures are natural to use when talking, but I don’t wander back and forth across the stage. Hiding behind the lectern that holds the computer is a great spot. If you fidget, the audience won’t see it, and you won’t distract them by walking around so they only have your voice and the slides on screen. You feel like David Attenborough.

Don’t look, don’t look…I looked

I’m always acutely aware of the staring eyes in the audience. If I actually make eye contact with anyone I don’t know in the audience, I become flustered as I panic over what their expression means. “How am I doing? Have I said something stupid? What was I saying? Oh no, I’ve forgotten and now they’re definitely judging me!” The natural reaction in this case is to look at the floor to avoid all eye contact completely. Or, to do what I used to do, and turn to stare at the slides. If I can’t see you, you can’t see me!

The problem is that by doing that, your voice is projected into the floor (or the projector screen in my case) instead of the to the back of the room, so half the audience won’t even hear you. To force myself to stand up straight and project my voice, I had to learn to make “pretend eye contact”. I ask at least two people I know to position themselves in the front row, one nearer the left-hand side of the room and one closer to the right. As long as they are in my direct line-of-sight on opposite sides of the room, I can split my attention between them and slowly move my attention back and forth between them.

In this way I don’t even need to look at anyone else – I change my gaze periodically from one to the other, and my head movement gives the impression to the rest of the audience that I’m engaging with them all. It makes me look confident and gregarious, even if I’m really only giving the talk to two people. If you are there on your own, look for two points on the back wall and use those, or if you’re a visual person, visualise two people there that you would rather be presenting to. The important thing is to keep your head up and direct your voice to the back of the room.

Rush hour

A common problem that I and many others suffer from is “rushing”: when you’re in such a hurry to get the whole ordeal over and done with that you speak too quickly, and blast through your slides at such a rapid pace that the audience can’t keep up. The speed at which you try to speak means you trip over your words and make frequent mistakes, or forget details that you then remember to put in later. It makes things confusing for everyone, especially people for whom English is not their first language.

What I do now is take the opportunity to breathe when moving to the next slide. It sounds silly to say “remember to breathe” but forcing yourself to do it actually solves a whole host of other problems. When you’re about to change slides, first turn to face the screen and breathe in. Hold the breath for a second as you move to the next slide. Breathe out slowly, relax your shoulders and lift your chin before you turn back to the audience. Taking this few seconds allows you to think about what you want to say. It also lets the audience skim the contents of of the slide so when you begin talking they’re listening to you instead of reading. I discovered that if I forced myself to slow down, I was less likely to forget things (and then panic), or make mistakes (then panic), or just panic in general. Breathe in, breathe out, relax.

Brain farts

I still have frequent mental lapses where my mind goes completely blank and I can’t remember at all what I meant to say (usually halfway through a sentence). I used to panic when that happened. It’s hard not to, as you grasp desperately for the piece of information you needed to convey and it’s just…gone. I used to think that the audience was judging me for not performing the talk as I had so many times before. But this was ridiculous – they had never seen my talk before. They couldn’t possibly know what I was supposed to say.

Now, instead of standing in silence, umm-ing and aah-ing as I try desperately to get the wheel back on the track, I just disguise it as the end of the point and move onto the next one. If can’t do that gracefully, I’ll own up to not being able to remember at that point (“sorry, having a moment there, I’ll come back to that later”…or blame it on my age if it’s a less formal setting). Anyone who is interested enough will ask for more information at the end of the talk or during the coffee sessions, and I’ll usually have remembered by then. Don’t dwell on your lapse, just keep the talk moving and the audience will keep going with you. Ph.D. students in particular get a lot of leeway at conferences because the seasoned academics know you’re new to this and they’ll be a lot more gentle than they are with each other.

Practice makes perfect

As a piece of general advice, if you can, try not to read from flashcards or a written script during your talk. Every time I’ve seen a presenter using them, they spend the whole talk speaking to the paper in their hands, and the audience can’t hear them. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with preparing a script and learning it by rote if you find this method less stressful. I’ve met plenty of people who do this, and they’re excellent presenters, but they key point is they don’t take their scripts with them to the podium.

Personally, I can’t do it because my memory isn’t good enough and I get flustered if I forget even the smallest detail from the script. Instead, I construct my slides so that the content reminds me of what I want to talk about. As long as I know enough about a subject to be able to have a conversation about it, and I practice well enough beforehand, I can freestyle on the day using my bullet points. Every approach is valid, and if you’re not sure what works for you, try a few. The main point is to try and avoid looking down – if you really need to use notes, you could use the presenter view on your slide show software because at least then your head will still be “up” and your voice will project toward the back.

Above all, practice your talk as often as you can, with as many different people as you can – firstly several times on your own to get an idea of the timing and flow, then with friends/Ph.D. colleagues, and then (for a conference talk) with your research group so you can pre-empt what sort of questions people might have and where you might need to explain things better. Practising builds up “muscle memory” so that you can speak more naturally and have a better idea of where you can cut down details if you start running out of time on the day. If you can get into good habits when you practice, you don’t have to think so hard about them when you present for real.

Oh, and don’t worry about technical problems on the day. They happen to everyone at least once!

Summary

• Be aware of your body language. Stand up straight, square your shoulders and make eye contact – even if it’s not with anyone in the audience.
• Breathe. Just breathe. You can do this.
• Practice, practice, practice!
• The audience will forgive a few minor mishaps from a Ph.D. student, so if you mess up, don’t panic. It’s honestly fine!
• Don’t look down!
• If you need to, have a little sip of water between slides.
• Practice with other people.
• If you can…smile! It’ll make you look relaxed.

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