How I Overcame My Fear of Public Speaking

You know that feeling when it’s your turn to say something, and suddenly your throat tightens, your heart starts racing, your legs go weak, and your whole body goes numb and paralyzed? Your voice disappears — it becomes squeaky, shallow, shaky. Your mind goes blank, and your thoughts become so overwhelming that they slip away… like chaotic buzzing bees. You feel like you might faint, throw up, the ground is swaying under your feet, your palms are sweating, your hands are shaking… A whole storm is happening inside you, while on the outside absolutely nothing has changed.

The same person or people are standing in front of you, with the same facial expression they had a half-second ago — a half-second that, for you, has lasted an eternity. For them, everything is the same; they have no idea about the inner agony you’re going through, while you feel as if the whole world has just collapsed onto your shoulders.

That stage fright and fear of being seen doesn’t only show up when you’re expected to speak in front of a group. These paralyzing sensations can appear even in front of just one person — even a virtual one.

Why does that happen?

As a child, I wanted to be a singer when I grew up. I developed my love for singing with my grandmother, with whom I sang traditional and folk songs. My grandma still has a voice like Merima Njegomir, as my mom likes to say. I adored singing, and I easily found opportunities to “perform.” At village weddings, I would stand on the side and sing whatever the singer under the big tent was singing at that moment. People would gather around me, listen to my little concert, and comment on how nicely I sang, how charismatic and sweet I was, and my grandma would beam with pride. Boys would bring me dandelions and ask to take photos with me, and I felt like a superstar. I felt good, natural, and I invited other kids to play and sing along with me. For me, there was nothing to be ashamed of. But then…

When I started school, stage fright appeared. Even though I was an excellent student, the fear of not meeting expectations attacked quickly. I wanted my parents to be proud of me, to have the best grades and behavior — to be PERFECT.

And that, of course, backfired.

The system is built on reward and punishment, and I wanted only the rewards. Mistakes and criticism weren’t an option. Unfortunately, no one prepared me for that reality, and expectations absolutely did exist. Fear crept into my life quietly and subtly, and it cost me 25 years of intense stress and hiding. After the age of 14, I couldn’t even look at a microphone anymore. I even stopped singing at home. Every time I had the chance to hear my own voice, my heart would first leap with excitement… and then immediately start pounding out of my chest with panic and fear, warning me of the worst possible scenario.

My soul was begging to express itself and be seen, while every time I stepped into view, I threw myself into terror. Every test, every moment of standing at the blackboard, school performances, exams, job interviews, asking a question in a group or in front of strangers — all of it triggered literal panic attacks. Still, my need to express myself and overcome this paralyzing state was so strong that giving up was never an option.

After university, I began exploring and consciously exposing myself. Little by little. In small groups, along with my stage fright, I asked questions, commented, shared my thoughts. When tears would come from overwhelm, I didn't hide them. I chose spaces where I felt safe enough to run this experiment, and I never received judgment or rejection. On the contrary — I noticed how much empathy and respect people have for vulnerability. If anyone rolled their eyes, I never noticed. I was that person who always cries in groups and workshops when speaking about myself. Especially when speaking about myself. That’s when I realized I wasn’t “too sensitive” — I had simply been holding all those emotions inside for so long that they had to come out somewhere… and for me, they came out in tears every time I opened Pandora’s box inside me. The emotional charge was huge, and I spent so much energy just trying to contain it.

Through writing, psychotherapy, EFT, PEAT, coaching, theta healing, NLP, regression therapy, bodywork, family constellations, free dance, kundalini yoga, reiki, and many other tools, techniques, practices, and trainings — and most of all through my own courage to step forward, expose myself, and take action — I slowly freed myself from this repetitive, overwhelming pattern and began to live and express myself freely.

Now I understand that all those reactions were simply forms of inner protection that I had unconsciously built to “survive.” I’m fascinated by our human genius — how we can create entire inner survival structures, and then paradoxically live trapped inside the role of a helpless victim… a role we also created ourselves. 💥

By releasing the weight of expectations, limiting beliefs, and emotional charges like shame, guilt, inadequacy, and fear of rejection, I opened up a space of safety where I feel grounded in my body and free to be who I am at any moment — knowing that by speaking my truth with kindness, I bring every inner monster down from its pedestal into my field of vision, where I always have enough resources and capacity to meet it.

The key to my return was releasing and letting go of suppressed emotions.

Until I looked within, faced my pain, allowed myself to feel, and expressed the truth that was present — no public speaking training, skills, techniques, or certificates could help me. Only when I cleared space inside myself and opened my heart — where all the answers were waiting — did the capacity for the experience I needed finally appear.

Stage fright and fear still show up sometimes, especially when something deeply matters to me — but they are no longer paralyzing. They don’t overwhelm me. They pass quickly because I don’t ignore them anymore. I’ve learned to embrace them instead of pushing them away, to breathe and communicate with them. They are reminders of the success I’ve achieved, of the long journey I’ve walked, and of the pride I feel for myself and for the girl who never gave up.

Until the next reading, sending you hugs,
Iskra ✨

P.S.
If you are also facing challenges with public speaking and feel that I could support you on your journey, write to me at: iskrincoaching@gmail.com