The TEDx stage called me and I had less than 90 days to prepare for a talk I didn’t originally think I was going to give. Ironically, the talk I ultimately gave, The Most Expensive Lie About Success, was born out of the original TEDx talk I thought I was supposed to give.

There is a through line in this talk that I believe almost every one of us can relate to. It’s something we do without even realizing we’re doing it, and I cannot wait for you to hear the full message when the official video is released.

But before you see the polished video, I want to tell you about the part you won’t see. I want to tell you what was happening in my life, and in my body, before I stepped onto that red dot. I know you will be able to relate.

Of course, there is never a “Perfect” time for the big things in life. I mean, Isn’t it funny (not so funny) how life seems to get crazier right when we’re stepping into something bigger?

Leading up to my TEDx talk, I had an employee quit. My assistant moved away. It was summer, which meant the kids were home, mom duties were calling, and, of course, I still had a business to run. And then there was another piece I wrestled with.

By the time I left for Italy, summer would be ending, and my kids would be going back to school. Saying yes to this opportunity meant I would miss the beginning of their school year… Cue the mom guilt. There was definitely a part of me that questioned it.

Is this the right time to leave? Should I be home? Can I really step away from my business, my kids, and everything that needs me right now?

We say things like: The timing just isn’t right. But I’ve started wondering…when is it ever?

Is there a perfect time to give a TEDx talk? A perfect time to find a new assistant? A perfect time to leave your family and fly across the world? A perfect time to take the trip, start the business, write the book, change careers, have the conversation, or finally do the thing that has been calling you? We can always find a reason why now isn’t convenient. And sometimes saying yes to one thing means accepting that we can’t be everywhere for everything. That doesn’t make the decision easy.

However, I’ve learned that if we wait for a season when nobody needs us, the business is perfectly staffed, the kids’ schedules are clear, our calendar magically opens up, and everything feels perfectly aligned…we may be waiting forever. Sometimes the timing we would never choose is exactly the timing we’re being asked to trust. So I made the time. I got on a plane. I traveled across the ocean to Italy. And I showed up to share my idea worth spreading.

When I arrived in Cortina, Italy, I was welcomed with open arms. The TEDx Cortina team was next level. Truly world-class people. I was in another country. I didn’t speak the language. And yet somehow they made me feel completely at home. Like I belonged there. 

I was also the only speaker giving my talk in English. There were more than 500 people in the audience, primarily Italian-speaking, with English as a second language for many of them. And I remember praying that my heart would connect with theirs. That whatever language barrier existed wouldn’t matter because the message underneath the words was human and universal. I hoped they would feel what I was trying to say.

About an hour before my call time, everything changed. I was the fourth speaker out of ten. I had been excited watching the other speakers, and I was running through my lines in my mind.

… And then my body took over. My knees felt weak. My heart started beating so hard and fast it felt like it might jump out of my chest. My armpits were sweating and I did what we’re taught to do. I tried to reframe it… I’m excited. And somewhere inside my brain another voice laughed and said: Nope. You’re scared as shit.

Excuse my language, but it’s true. I was scared. What if I forgot a line? What if my mind went completely blank? What if I had traveled all the way to Italy, stepped onto one of the biggest stages of my life…and blew it?

Then I remembered what I had been practicing. I went back to my visualization. I saw myself missing no lines. I saw people smiling. I saw them crying with hope in their eyes. I saw them clapping. More importantly, I saw their hearts opening.

Then I closed my eyes and prayed. I called in love and light. I visualized a bubble of white light surrounding me and filling me with calm, grounded energy. I called on God to hold me, Jesus to support me, and my angels to guide me.

Within about a minute, something happened. My heart slowed down. And instead of focusing on what could go wrong, I started focusing on gratitude. On the incredible opportunity not just for me but the message to be sent through me for the greater good. My fear started turning into gratitude.

I became grateful for the experiences that had led me to this moment. Grateful for every person who showed up. Grateful for my legs that were about to carry me onto that stage. Grateful for the red dot. Grateful for the people behind the scenes who had worked for months to create this event. Grateful that somehow, out of all the places I could have been in the world that day, I was there. And with that gratitude came peace.

I walked slowly out of my dressing room, down the stairs and through the hallway toward backstage. Behind the curtain it was dark and buzzing. People were operating equipment. Someone was making adjustments. Another person was helping speakers get their headsets on and hiding wires beneath clothing. The stage manager was shuffling people through, reminding everyone to stay quiet.

There was high excitement. High energy. But underneath all of it, there was this grounded sense of empowerment.

Then my TEDx coach hugged me, patted me on the back and said: You got this. And suddenly I wasn’t thinking about “getting it right.”  I was thinking about how incredibly proud and privileged I felt to have this opportunity.

I walked onto the stage and yes, my legs were still a little shaky. I looked out into the audience and noticed a woman sitting toward my right in one of the first few rows. She had the biggest smile on her face. So I focused on her.

I invited the audience to come on a journey with me. Then I sat down in the red chair and began to talk. Something happened a few minutes into the talk that I’ll never forget. My mouth was moving. Words were coming out. But I wasn’t consciously trying to remember what came next anymore. I wasn’t performing the talk. I was in it. I was connected to the audience.

I wasn’t thinking about my next line. I wasn’t thinking about whether I looked right or sounded right. I was simply there to tell a story and share an idea. About three minutes in, my body completely surrendered to the experience. The fear was gone.

Maybe courage isn’t walking onto the stage without shaking.
Maybe courage is feeling your knees shake and walking out there anyway. And I think that’s something worth remembering far beyond a TEDx stage.

We often think we need to feel ready before we do the thing. We wait for the confidence. The certainty. The perfect timing. We wait for the fear to disappear, but maybe being ready has nothing to do with being fearless. Maybe it’s simply deciding that what’s on the other side of the fear matters enough to keep walking.

“I Did It.” When I said my final line, I remember standing there looking out at the audience. They were clapping. They were smiling.

And I thought: I did it. All that preparation. All those rehearsals. All the moments of questioning myself. Everything happening at home and at work. The flights. The nerves. The fear. I did it.

Did I stumble over a couple of words? Probably. Was it absolutely perfect? No.

But my heart was so full because I had been given an opportunity to share a message that I believe God put in me. A message born through the good times and the painful ones. A message I once thought was only about my experience until I realized it wasn’t just mine at all. It’s something so many of us are doing. We just don’t realize we’re doing it yet.

My only regret? I wish I had stood there about five seconds longer and soaked in the applause. Seriously. Someone should teach a class on that part. 😂

I walked offstage feeling this enormous sense of relief and happiness. Then I looked at the next speaker waiting to go on. He looked terrified. Stressed. And I couldn’t help but giggle a little because I thought: Ohhhh…I know exactly how you feel. That had been me just minutes earlier. So I sent my bubble of love, light, and calmness his way.

Perhaps the most meaningful part happened afterward. I walked into the lobby surrounded by hundreds of people speaking Italian. Then one person came up to me. Then another. And another. People shook my hand. They congratulated me. They thanked me for sharing my story.

Many of them started by saying: “Sorry, my English isn’t very good, but…” And then they would tell me how the talk reached them.

What struck me most was who came up to me: younger people, older people, men, women. People who, on paper, probably wouldn’t fit into one neat little “target audience.”

I’m no stranger to speaking or leading workshops. Usually there is a particular audience. A certain population. People who naturally connect with the subject matter. This felt different, because for a moment, there wasn’t a target audience. There were just people. Human beings who recognized something in the story, and maybe that was the greatest confirmation I could have received.

The language barrier didn’t matter. The demographics didn’t matter. The labels didn’t matter. The human experience did.

I keep thinking about everything that could have become my reason not to do this. The timing, the business, the staffing changes, the kids, missing the beginning of their school year, the mom guilt, the travel, the fear, the possibility of forgetting my lines. There were plenty of reasons to say: Maybe later. But sometimes we spend so much time waiting for life to create the perfect conditions for us to step into something bigger. And maybe that’s not how it works.

Maybe we step forward while life is still life-ing. Maybe courage isn’t walking onto the stage without shaking. Maybe courage is feeling your knees shake and walking out there anyway. Maybe the goal isn’t to eliminate fear. Maybe it’s to become so connected to the reason you’re doing something that the fear is no longer the loudest thing in the room.

That day in Cortina reminded me that we don’t have to be perfect to make an impact. We have to be willing to show up, surrender, trust, and to share what has been put on our hearts.

I am deeply grateful to every person who helped me get to that red dot and to every one of you who cheered me on throughout this process. And I cannot wait for you to see The Most Expensive Lie About Success when the official TEDx video is released.

This talk may have started with my story, but the message isn’t really about me. It’s about all of us.

With Gratitude, Dr. Anna Marie