There’s a moment I’ve seen happen many times, and it’s always a little difficult to predict.

It doesn’t come at the beginning of the process, when ideas are still forming, and it doesn’t usually arrive when everything is neatly organized and written down.

It happens somewhere in between.

There’s a kind of pressure that shows up when people prepare to speak.

It’s not always obvious at first, but it tends to shape everything that follows. A quiet belief that in order to be taken seriously, you need to sound a certain way. More polished. More impressive. More… intelligent.

There’s a story most people avoid telling.

Not because it isn’t important, but because it feels too ordinary at first glance. It doesn’t sound like a defining moment or a dramatic turning point. It’s just something that happened, something you lived through, something you learned along the way.

After a talk, people will often come up and say thank you.

Sometimes they’ll mention an idea or a concept that stood out, but more often, they’ll reference something else entirely. A moment. A story. A feeling they didn’t expect to have.

Last week at the incredible Daily Drip SPARK event, I shared a story about the why behind what I do as a speaking coach, and I thought I would share it with this community here, too.

It’s 1992, and I am a 32-year old Publicity Director at a network television station, promoting soap operas. It is a high drama and anxiety-provoking work environment – a soap opera of its own, where doors are slammed, backs are stabbed, and information is withheld.

We all know Bad Bunny as a global music phenomenon. He is one of the most streamed artists in the world not because he tried to be what others expected. He succeeded because he was unapologetically himself.

Experience is often treated as the ultimate credential in speaking.

The longer someone has been on stages, in boardrooms, or in leadership roles, the more they assume growth should happen automatically. Time equals mastery. Repetition equals confidence. Experience equals effectiveness.

A question that could determine how fast you grow as a speaker and leader

Let me ask you a powerful question, one that might quietly shape your success as a speaker more than talent, experience, or confidence:

I recently had the pleasure of joining Arielle on her podcast Arielle The Connector. Our conversation was one that I believe many people need to hear, especially anyone who has ever struggled with networking or fundraising.

I’m excited to share some wonderful news. I’ve officially joined the TEDx Orlando Dream Team as a speaker curator and speaker coach!

This has been a dream of mine for a very long time to participate in such a meaningful event and to lend my coaching skills to help speakers show up with even more confidence, clarity, and connection.

On September 11, 2001, when U.S. airspace suddenly closed, a small town in Newfoundland was thrust into the center of global chaos.

Gander, with a population of just 10,000, became the unexpected host to 38 planes carrying nearly 7,000 stranded passengers. In an instant, the town nearly doubled in size.

Think back to the most powerful TEDx talks you have seen. Maybe it was a reminder that silence is never neutral. Maybe it was a talk that helped you rethink how you spend your time. Or maybe it was the simple but profound message that love is the most powerful force we have.

When you think of TEDx, what comes to mind? For many, it is those unforgettable talks that stick with us long after we have clicked away. Talks that made us rethink what vulnerability really means, what creativity looks like in schools, or what truly leads to a good life.

I was recently at a networking event, and after about the fifth person introduced themselves, I noticed something…

Every introduction sounded eerily similar.

Perfect grammar. Buzzword-filled. Impressive-sounding… but somehow totally flat.

It was clear: these intros were AI-generated.

One of the most common questions I get from speakers and leaders alike is this: “How do I know how much detail to include in my story or speech?”

It’s a great question, because too little detail leaves your audience confused. But too much? That’s when you lose them entirely.

We are living in profoundly challenging times. Across the U.S. — and around the world — many of us are watching with heartbreak, frustration, and even rage as the values we care most deeply about feel under siege.

In moments like these, silence can feel both easier and more dangerous.

But your voice matters.

Pride is the antidote to shame.

It’s a simple statement, but it holds the power to change how we show up in the world.

For too long, many of us have been taught—explicitly or subtly—that parts of who we are should be hidden, softened, or silenced. That we’re too much or not enough. That our stories are inconvenient. Our identities—whether shaped by culture, gender, sexuality, race, class, or creativity—don’t fit the mold.

When I first started out as a speaker, I thought it was all about the content – having the right words, the perfect slides, the perfect script. I spent hours memorizing every line and trying to get every gesture just right.

But what I didn’t realize was that true impact doesn’t come from perfection. It comes from authenticity – from finding your own voice, owning your story, and connecting with your audience in a real way.

After visiting Arches National Park, I couldn’t stop thinking about the power of time—how it sculpts, shapes, and stretches what seems solid.

Then I arrived at Bryce Canyon… and the story deepened.

Here, the rocks aren’t graceful arches. They’re jagged, towering spires called hoodoos. According to Paiute legend, these hoodoos were once people—turned to stone as a consequence of their actions, frozen in place for eternity.

And I thought: how many of us are doing the same?