Public speaking nerves: can your brain learn a new response?

Public speaking is something I used to genuinely dread.

Which never entirely made sense to me, because I have taught Aikido, a traditional Japanese martial art, for many years and have always felt completely comfortable standing in front of a class. 

Put me in front of a presentation at work or university, though, and it felt completely different. Suddenly I was much more aware of myself. Was I saying the right thing? Had I lost my place? What came next? What if my mind went blank?

The more I tried to make sure everything went perfectly, the harder it seemed to become.

When the things meant to help make it harder

I am dyslexic, and looking back, I think that played a part. Cue cards, detailed notes and information on screens were supposed to make presentations easier, but for me, they often added another layer of pressure. Instead of focusing on the people in front of me and what I wanted to communicate, part of my attention was busy trying to read the right line, keep my place and remember what came next.

I remember this particularly while completing my Hypnotherapy in Practice Diploma. By then, I was in my mid-forties, a dad of teenagers, had been running businesses for years and already taught groups every week. Yet presentations could still bring up those familiar nerves.

It is a useful reminder that we can feel capable and confident in many areas of life and still have other situations where our mind and body respond very differently.

Then something clicked

Towards the end of the course, I stopped using cue cards. Not because I had suddenly become fearless. I simply realised that trying to read my way through something I already understood was making my experience harder.

So, I decided just to talk.

I knew the subject and what I wanted people to understand. I did not need to reproduce every sentence exactly as I had prepared it. Instead, I began treating the presentation much more like a conversation. Something shifted. It felt easier, more natural and much more like me. It only took me four and a half decades to work that one out.

But there is something reassuring in that too. We can easily start treating a familiar response as part of who we are: “I’m not confident”, “I hate public speaking”, “I’ve always been nervous in those situations.”

Something you have felt for years does not necessarily have to stay that way.

What on earth are you doing to yourself?

Today, I regularly speak to groups as part of my work, and something I once genuinely disliked has become something I really enjoy. There can still be a brief moment beforehand when my brain says: “What on earth are you doing to yourself?” The difference is that I understand that feeling differently now.

Years ago, it might have meant: “I’m anxious. Something is going to go wrong.” Now it feels much closer to: “My mind and body are getting ready to do what they need to do.”

The physical response might not have disappeared completely, but my relationship with it has changed – and that changes what happens next.

Nervous does not always mean “I can’t cope”

When something matters to us, our nervous system naturally prepares us to respond. Our heart rate may increase, we become more alert, and our attention sharpens. Those sensations are real, but they do not automatically mean we cannot cope.

A racing heart can quickly become “Something is wrong” or “I can’t do this.” Another interpretation might be: “This matters to me, and my body is getting ready.” That small shift in perspective can create a little more space.

When nerves take over, our thinking can become narrower. We focus on what might go wrong, become increasingly self-conscious and start imagining what everybody else might be thinking. Sometimes we then start avoiding the very situations where we would like to feel more confident: presentations, interviews, speaking in meetings, wedding speeches or putting ourselves forward for opportunities.

Avoidance can feel easier in the moment, but if it becomes a pattern, we might not get the opportunity to discover what else might happen.

Can your brain learn something different?

I was talking to my daughter after one of my workshops when it struck me that my own experience was a very ordinary example of neuroplasticity in action. 

Neuroplasticity simply means that our brain can adapt and change through learning and experience. It does not mean that long-standing nerves disappear overnight, and everyone’s experience is different, but a response that has become familiar is not necessarily fixed forever. New experiences give our brain new information: “I felt nervous, but I managed. That went better than I expected. Maybe I can do this.”

This does not mean throwing yourself straight into the situation you fear most. Small, manageable experiences count too: asking a question in a meeting, practising a short presentation with someone you trust, speaking for a few minutes or using simple prompts rather than scripting every word.

It is also worth noticing what went well, rather than allowing your busy mind to replay only the uncomfortable parts afterwards. Over time, those experiences can start to build a different pattern.

Confidence does not always have to come first

We often imagine that confidence needs to come first: once we feel confident enough, then we will do the difficult thing, but often it happens the other way around. We take a manageable step, discover that we can cope, and our confidence begins to grow from this experience.

For me, the change was not about becoming a completely different person or turning myself into a polished public speaker. It was about recognising what was already there. I could teach. I could explain things. I could talk to groups. I could have conversations. 

Once I stopped forcing myself to present in a way that did not suit me, I could begin using strengths I already had. That is something I often come back to in my work too. The aim does not necessarily have to be becoming fearless or turning yourself into somebody different. It can be about feeling steadier, clearer and more able to trust yourself when something matters.

Back in the driving seat

I still get that little hit of nerves before speaking, but I no longer see it as a problem.

The goal was never to stop feeling nervous. It was to stop the nerves from taking over – to understand what my mind and body were doing, use the energy and get on with something I now genuinely enjoy. That is what I find so encouraging about the way our brains work. A response can feel familiar for years without being fixed forever.

Change is not always one dramatic breakthrough. More often, it is a series of small shifts and new experiences that gradually help a different response feel more natural. Sometimes you only realise how much has changed when you look back. Something that once felt overwhelming can become manageable – and, sometimes, even enjoyable.

If nerves around public speaking are holding you back at work, in your studies or from opportunities that matter to you, the right support can help you make sense of what is happening and begin building a different response.