I delivered my first paid speaking engagement this week at the University of Liverpool, and I’ve been sitting with it ever since, trying to work out how I actually feel about it.

The talk itself was about visibility: what it means to be seen, what it creates, and what it takes from you. But in a way I didn’t fully expect, the experience of giving the talk ended up reflecting those same ideas back at me in real time.

Watching it back, I’ve been thinking a lot about how it actually felt to deliver.

I’m Not a “Speaker” (At Least Not Yet)

Public speaking is something I’ve always wanted to do more of, but I’ve never really thought of myself as a “speaker”. I’m much more comfortable being handed a mic, given a rough sense of direction, and allowed to just get on with it. That’s where I feel most like myself… in conversation, on camera, or recording something where I can follow the thread rather than force it.

Structure, on the other hand, has always been a bit of a double-edged sword. Without it, I can go off on tangents. With too much of it, I can become overly aware of what I’m meant to be doing, and that awareness starts to get in the way. For this talk, because there needed to be a clear takeaway, I built something far more structured than I usually would. A full presentation. A defined narrative. Something that, in theory, would hold everything in place.

In practice, I think it did the opposite.

Why This Felt Different

It was an honour to be invited to speak at the University of Liverpool. That didn’t feel lost on me at any point. But alongside that was a level of pressure I hadn’t quite experienced before. Not just to deliver something coherent, but to justify why I was the person standing there delivering it. The talk was based on my own experiences, but that doesn’t make the feeling go away. If anything, it sharpens it. There’s a particular kind of discomfort that comes with talking about your own life in a room full of people you don’t know, especially when parts of that life are framed as “achievements”. It’s not something I sit comfortably with, regardless of how it might look from the outside.

In the lead-up to the talk, I was also made aware that posters promoting it had been taken down in parts of the campus. It wasn’t the main focus of the day, but it stayed with me. A small reminder that visibility, particularly around LGBTQ+ experiences, is still something that can be challenged, resisted, or pushed aside. That context doesn’t disappear when you step up to speak… It stays there, whether you acknowledge it directly or not.

Did I Deliver It How I Wanted To?

By the time I actually delivered the talk, I knew I wasn’t fully in the version of myself I’d practised. I’d rehearsed it multiple times and had a clear sense of how I wanted it to land. But when you’re in the room, things shift. I came in under time. I felt slightly flustered in places. Certain points didn’t land with the clarity or weight I’d intended. It wasn’t that it went badly… but it also wasn’t what I’d built in my head.

And that’s the part I can’t stop thinking about.

Because it’s easy, after something like that, to focus on the gap between what you intended and what actually happened. To replay the moments where you felt slightly off, or where you know you could have done something differently. But that’s only part of the picture.

The other part is that I did it.

I stood up and delivered a talk about something that matters to me, in a space that felt both significant and unfamiliar, and I held it. Not perfectly, but genuinely. And for a first paid speaking engagement, that matters more than whether every line landed exactly as planned.

What I’m Taking From This

What this has given me, more than anything, is a clearer understanding of how I need to approach this kind of work going forward. I don’t need to force myself into a version of “speaker” that doesn’t feel natural. I don’t need to over-structure something to the point that it restricts how I show up. The strength of what I do has always come from being able to connect, to speak honestly, and to respond in the moment. That doesn’t disappear just because there are slides behind me.

If anything, it’s something I need to trust more.

The talk is called The Cost of Being Seen, and in a quieter way than I expected, giving it reinforced that idea for me. Being seen isn’t just about the moments where everything comes together. It’s also about showing up when you feel slightly off, slightly unsure, and doing it anyway. It’s about allowing yourself to be visible even when it doesn’t feel polished.

That’s part of the cost too.

And it’s also part of the reason it matters.

If you’ve watched the talk, I’d genuinely be interested to hear what you took from it.

And if you’ve ever stepped into something new and felt like you didn’t quite deliver it the way you wanted to, you’re probably closer than you think.