LadyM takes a break from croissants to tell us about the confidence pants she wears while studying abroad!—Sparkitors
I used to be brave. I would sing in on stage. I would give speeches for kicks. And then I hit high school... and my confidence pants shrunk in the wash.
I stuck close with my amazing group of friends that I had known since elementary school; talking to new people ranked about as high on my "Fun Things" list as paper cuts and water boarding. Class presentations were something else entirely. Best case scenario, I said something stupid. Worst case scenario...I forgot to breath and fainted.
But as I was walking one day, an acorn hit me on the head and dislodged a thought. And that thought was, "Megann, you can't let being shy interfere with your life, or else you will die when you go to university 2000 km away and don't know anybody."
And so the changes started. At first they were small, about the size of a confidence handkerchief. It was feeling good after giving a knockout presentation in Politics class. It was showing my horse with the conscious knowledge that I was being judged. It was stage-managing at the local theatre's high school production—and if theater kids can't get you out of your shell, I don't know who can.
And now I'm in France, 6000 km from home, speaking a foreign language to a bunch of people who I don't know and who are immediately aware of every error I make. It would appear that somewhere between hiding in the corner and now, I magically acquired confidence pants. And a confidence hat, probably. I think it looks like this. "She Who Fails at Small Talk" (that's me, if you missed the implication) is now living abroad and making friends who she can't imagine her life without.
Sometimes, though, I get caught up in old habits. The other day in Biology, the teacher decided that she'd like to hear some Canadian accents, so I got to read from the textbook. It was bad —I botched words and my accent was all over the place—and head-Megann wouldn't let it go. I was so busy thinking about how I could screw up that I choked, spluttered, and sounded like a half-wit with a 3rd grade French education. (P.S. You try reading scientifical biological terms in a foreign language).
So it became my goal to iterate (is that a word?) to the class that I can, in fact, speak French with some degree of competency. And, lo and behold, the opportunity presented itself (no pun intended) when the French teacher assigned seminars on the novel we've been reading.
As you can probably imagine, head-Megann was having a field day. She kept saying things like:
"You speak worse French than Lavinia... after they cut out her tongue!" and
"Why are you doing a presentation about jazz? You know nothing about music!"
So, I told her to casse-toi, donned my confidence pants, and got up in front of a group of impeccably dressed and judgmental French kids. And I started to speak.
Did I say that I started to speak? I meant squeak. The first things that came out of my mouth were high pitched and unintelligible. I choked on an "r," I was starting to feel dizzy...
And then head-Megann chimed in with something that was actually useful.
"Pssssst! You're forgetting to breathe..."
Deep breath. Another one. Start over. You're good.
"Bonjour. Aujourd'hui je vais vous parler de la musique jazz..."
And I was off. Sure, there were nervous smiles, sexually confused trumpets, and some Anglicisms. But I got up in front and spoke (in French!) and was understood (in French!). And that is a pretty big deal.
So, what advice can I offer?
First, two words: Liquid courage. Noooo, not this. I use Bach's Rescue Remedy, an internationally available homeopathic de-stressor. We use it on our horses, but it's good for people too. It tastes disgusting, and I suspect that it's mostly placebic... but I tell myself "You've taken your Rescue Remedy, you can't be nervous..." and it usually takes me down a few notches.
Next, find your LITERAL confidence pants. For me that's a nice fitted shirt, pencil skirt, and heels that make me, like, 6 ft tall. Wearing something that makes you feel fabulous gives you an epic confidence boost, and makes you 76% less likely to faint in front of your class mates.
It never hurts to know your stuff. Nervous about presenting? Practice like mad. Nervous about asking out that cute boy in homeroom? Know his name. He probably doesn't appreciate being called "that cute boy."
And finally, remember to breathe.
The most important lesson I've learned is not to say no to something just because I'm a little bit (or even a lot) nervous. It would have been easy for me to stay at home in Canada. It would have been easy to never leave my comfort zone. But now I'm here. I'm pushing my limits. Sure, it can be a little embarrassing at times, but I've pushed my fear of failure aside and I try to wear my confidence pants as often as possible. If I'd let my anxiety about a couple awkward moments stop me, I'd have missed out on the best experience of my life.
Songs
Raw, strangely literal... and very effective. Elle M'a Dit by Cali
This is about as rocky as I'll go on a normal day (I'm a showtunes kinda girl). A Tout Moment La Rue by Eiffel
Do you hate public speaking? Do you hate it even more when you've got to do it in a foreign language?
Related post: My French Adventure
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