Shyly Sharing

A story from the world of storytelling

Photo by Matthias Wagner on Unsplash

A few years back, I did a storytelling show that featured about ten storytellers.

Some were primarily writers. Some just wanted to share a momentous event in their lives. A few were folks I’d known for a while on the Los Angeles storytelling circuit.

Before the show, one woman shyly shared that this would be her first time on stage. She’d been a writer for years and had written several books, but was terrified about speaking in front of an audience.

Her story was captivating and the audience loved her.

At the end of the night, I talked to her briefly. I told her she was great and her story was very moving and I encouraged her to keep telling stories on stage.

“I was so afraid,” she told me. “But I’m glad you didn’t notice that.”

I took a brief beat because I knew how vulnerable she was at that moment. “I definitely noticed,” I told her, “but that doesn’t matter. You’ll be better the next time and even better the time after that. What you had that almost no one else tonight had was a sense of structure and knowledge of how to build a story to a satisfying conclusion. The performance stuff is just a muscle that will improve by exercising it. But the rest is something most people don’t have, even if their performance is more polished. That’s what puts you far ahead of 95% of people who do this onstage in Los Angeles.”

And then I left.

So many times in life we don’t have any idea if the things we say and do will have any effect. It’s like throwing pebbles in a pond and never quite knowing where the ripples will go. Sometimes they go nowhere and make no lasting impression, but we can’t know at the moment.

Recently, I saw this woman again. She still gets nervous, but she’s performed in about a dozen shows since that first one. And she always does well. She told me she’s almost feeling comfortable onstage now, but at least people in the audiences can no longer tell she’s afraid.

She tried to give me credit for how well she’s done and I thanked her, but told her she was the one who did all the work. I just encouraged her.

But sometimes that’s all that people need.