The space between voice and vulnerability

There is a moment that almost nobody prepares you for as a communicator. It arrives quietly, right after the applause fades or the meeting ends. It is that strange, sinking feeling that catches you the second you stop speaking.

Your shoulders drop. Your breath releases. And suddenly, your mind fills with questions you did not ask for.

Did I say that clearly? Did they understand me? Did I stumble? Did I do enough?

If you have ever felt this, let me reassure you. You are not the only one. You are experiencing something very real that many speakers and leaders know well.

I know it because I have lived it for most of my career.

Long before I coached people on public speaking, I worked in roles where pressure was constant. Live television, political media, military briefings, high profile commentary, serving as a spokesperson for the United Nations. Every moment demanded clarity, composure and presence. And every time, the emotional crash arrived the moment the microphone turned off.

It never meant I failed. It meant I cared deeply about the message and the people listening.

To why the crash arrives so suddenly

When you speak, your body shifts into a higher gear. Your focus sharpens. Your senses heighten. Your system gathers every bit of alertness it can to help you deliver.

And then, the moment you finish, your body releases its grip. The adrenaline fades and your nervous system races to settle. The shift is so sudden that it feels as though something inside you drops.

Most people think this feeling is insecurity. But the truth is simpler.

Your body is recalibrating. It is the natural ending to an act of courage.

How I learned to move through this moment

I acknowledge it 

I recognise the feeling as soon as it arrives. This is the comedown. This is normal. Naming it gives it far less power.

I give myself space to breathe

 A short walk. A stretch. A few slow breaths. Movement helps my body return to balance more than any amount of thinking ever will.

I delay self evaluation

 Right after speaking, emotions are louder than clarity. This is not the moment to judge yourself. I wait at least an hour before reviewing anything.

I look for one thing I did well

 Not a list. Not a full breakdown. Just one moment of strength. This small practice protects confidence and stops unnecessary spirals.

I remind myself what the crash really signifies

 The emotional drop does not mean weakness. It means I showed up. It means I allowed myself to be seen. It means I gave something of value to others.

That is not small. That is meaningful.

What I want you to remember

You are not overreacting. You are not inexperienced. You are not too sensitive.

You are human. You stepped into visibility. You used your voice for something that matters. And your nervous system is simply catching up with your courage.

When the crash arrives, take a breath. Let it pass through you. Let your body reset. And then acknowledge yourself for doing something many people will never attempt.

This is what confident communicators learn to embrace. And you are far closer to that confidence than you think.