About ten years ago, before I delivered my first TEDx talk, I decided to take a speaker training course with a world-renowned speaker. At the time, I was a rookie, a nervous, unsure, and self-critical aspiring speaker. Though my glossophobia (fear of public speaking) had improved, I still felt vulnerable and not good enough. But I hoped this seasoned professional would boost my confidence and help me refine my skills.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
Two weeks after the training, I was set to give my first real talk, a TEDx talk at Covent Garden, London. My talk, titled “The Sweet Sanity of Madness,” was a deeply personal account of my struggle with psychosis and being sectioned in a psychiatric hospital in my twenties. It was a moment of raw vulnerability, and I was desperate for guidance and encouragement.
But during that training, instead of receiving constructive feedback, I was handed a humiliating experience I will never forget.
After delivering my first three-minute practice speech, I stood, heart pounding, waiting for his feedback. He looked at me, nodded, and said with a hint of condescension, “Oh dear, you were a little bit patronising. You sounded like a kids’ TV presenter.”
I was stunned.
There was no encouragement, no constructive critique, just a blunt, disparaging comment. I remember holding back tears, waiting for the break, and then rushing to the ladies’ room, where I broke down and sobbed. I was devastated. This wasn’t just about the feedback, it was about the pedestal I had placed this man on. I had dreamed of becoming an international speaker like him, and here he was, casually crushing that dream without a second thought.
For years, his words haunted me. I wondered if I really did sound patronising. I second-guessed myself every time I spoke publicly. His comment didn’t just bruise my confidence, it almost buried my dream.
Looking back, I can see now what he did wrong. As a speaker, a trainer, a coach, in fact, in any role where you’re guiding others, the way you give feedback can be transformative. It can either uplift someone, giving them the courage to keep going, or it can crush them.
He never learned the art of “the feedback sandwich.” A tried and tested method where you offer two commendations (positive aspects), followed by one recommendation (constructive criticism), and end on another positive note. It’s a simple, respectful way to help someone grow without breaking their spirit.
But maybe it wasn’t about me at all. Perhaps I reminded him of someone from his past. Or maybe he resented the fact that an unknown speaker like me had landed a TEDx talk on my first attempt. I’ll never know his reasons. But I do know this:
Feedback is powerful. It is a tool for growth, or a weapon that can wound. Use it wisely.
If you are a trainer, coach, leader, or anyone in a position to guide others, please remember this story. Recognise the weight of your words. Speak with kindness. Build people up, don’t tear them down.
Because for someone standing on a fragile foundation of courage, your words can be the difference between them finding their voice, or giving up on their dream.