By Simon Coleman | 1948 Co-Founder | Actor | L&D Specialist
The fear of public speaking affects millions of people worldwide.
As an actor, people often assume that standing up and speaking in front of others comes naturally to me, but the truth is rather different. Despite the confidence people may see on the outside, I have experienced the same nerves and anxiety that many others feel before speaking. In fact, I know plenty of actors who carry that same fear.
Many years ago, I experienced a panic attack just before going on stage at the Royal National Theatre in London.
For an actor, there are few places more prestigious. It should have been a career highlight. Instead, I found myself backstage with all the familiar symptoms of fear: a racing heart, shallow breathing and the overwhelming sense that I simply could not step onto the stage.
Thankfully, I had the tools to get myself back on track.
That experience stayed with me because it taught me something important about public speaking. Fear does not disappear simply because we become experienced. More often, we learn how to work with it.
This is why the fear of public speaking is so universal.
Whether it is presenting at a team meeting, speaking at a conference or delivering a keynote speech, the experience can feel remarkably similar. The stakes may be different, but our bodies often respond in the same way.
Our breathing changes. Our muscles tighten. Our thoughts race ahead. It can feel as though our body has recognised a threat before our mind has had chance to catch up.
Psychologists refer to the fear of public speaking as glossophobia, and at its core it is deeply human.
We are social creatures and for thousands of years, belonging to a group was essential to survival. Being rejected by the tribe carried significant risk. Although modern workplaces are very different, our brains have not entirely caught up. Standing in front of others and risking judgement can still trigger that same ancient response.
This is why public speaking often feels so personal.
The fear is rarely about the presentation itself. It is about what the presentation represents: being judged or feeling exposed in front of other people.
Many of us have experienced a moment where something did not go to plan. Perhaps we forgot our words or received critical feedback. Those experiences have a habit of lingering, quietly shaping how we feel about speaking in the future.
The challenge is that fear has a tendency to become self-fulfilling.
The more we focus on the physical sensations of anxiety the stronger they can become. Before long, we are not just worried about speaking. We are worried about feeling worried.
One of the biggest misconceptions about public speaking is that confident speakers do not experience nerves. In reality, many experienced speakers still feel anxious before stepping into the spotlight. Actors do. Leaders do.
The difference is often not the absence of nerves, but the ability to manage them.
Over the years, acting taught me that nerves are not always the enemy – that they are simply energy looking for somewhere to go.
The key is learning how to channel that energy rather than fight against it, which is where breathing becomes so important.
When anxiety rises, our breathing often becomes shallow and rapid. The body prepares for danger, even when no real danger exists. But the opposite is also true, and by consciously slowing the breath, we can send signals back to the brain that we are safe.
It sounds simple, but it is incredibly powerful.
I spent four years at drama school learning how to breathe effectively, and it remains one of the most valuable tools I use, both on stage and in everyday communication.
As far as I’m concerned confidence in public speaking is not about becoming fearless, but of learning that nerves do not have to dictate how we perform. And sometimes, the most important lesson public speaking teaches us is not how to speak in front of others.
It is how to be kinder to ourselves when we do.

