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By Suzette Martinez Standring

Women, let’s stop apologizing for sharing our thoughts with an audience.

I’ve heard it so often at conferences. In a group setting, whip-smart, competent females say, “I’m sorry to take up the time…I’m probably wrong, but…” 

There are many repeat variations. It’s a quiver of arrows we aim at ourselves. Be aware of two things when presenting to the public: (1) the apology disclaimer and (2) the long wind-up pitch to explaining your work.

As nurturers we crave rapport, and pooh-poohing ourselves is a form of bonding. At best, the intent is humility, but it conveys, “Forgive me for having thoughts.” 

I’ve observed that when women make up the majority at a conference, automatic mea culpas and self-putdowns become acceptable background chatter. Self-effacing humor can be hilarious, especially in private conversations, and truly bonding. But how often does it invade your public speaking persona and what does it convey about self-worth if overdone?

I’ve been guilty, too. For years, I couldn’t simply say, “Why, thank you.” 

No. My standard reply was “Oh, if I can do it, a chimp can do it.”

My ex-husband once wondered, “Do you say that so somebody will shower you with compliments?” Ouch.

My now-husband used to chide me, “Please stop putting yourself down in public. It raises questions for anyone who wants to work with you.”

Second to the apologetic disclaimer is its kissing cousin: the long wind-up pitch, which is giving a pre-explanation before the explanation of your work. Five minutes stretches into 10 or 15. Example:  “What’s your book about?” “Well, years ago I had this idea…then 10 years later, a friend told me to…so I went to a writing workshop in 1989 that got me going…”. 

It makes the listener think, Is your book as long and rambling?

Over-explanation is likely born from a desire to be understood fully, but that will never be. The audience being transformed into an Omnipotent Oz is an illusion. A concise paragraph description, carefully crafted, is plenty because the work will speak for itself.  

It took me years to undo my own windup pitch on any subject. My ex-husband, a trial lawyer, served as Professor Higgins to my Eliza Doolittle.

My apology was my typical opener, “I’m not sure this is a good time. I know you’re tired…”

Him: “No, tell me.”

Then came my windy preamble, “Remember when I told you blah-blah-blah that happened a few years ago, and so I was in the car, thinking yak-yak-yak….”

Him: “Suze, can you give it to me in 50 words or less?”

Me: “I crashed the car, but nobody was hurt. That’s it. Let’s have dinner.”

Of course, he asked for more details, but how freeing it was to just get to the point. No extra toppings. The cheese stands alone. Over time being more direct, concise and engaging became my communication model.

Be mindful of how your publicly shared comments reflect on you. Nix the phrases that equal, “It’s not worth it to listen to me.” Own the mindset, “I have something to say that could help you, too.”

Confidence compels.

Years ago my granddaughter was eight years old when I was training her to tell me what she wanted with honesty and directness. Our conversation was light and funny, and afterwards I asked her to sum it up.  Lulu said, “Say it with sass with a snap on top!”

— Suzette Martinez Standring

Suzette Martinez Standring is the author of The Art of Column Writing and The Art of Opinion Writing. She teaches writing workshops, and loves Erma Nation. Visit www.readsuzette.com.